Lindsay's Dean
by You've Been Gilmored
Summary: A more detailed account of the relationship between Lindsay and Dean. In Lindsay's Point of View.  It involves many of the scenes we witnessed in the show and also includes 'The Letter'. It shows Rory Gilmore in her eyes and how she ruined everything ...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: These characters and this story belong to the writers of 'Gilmore Girls'.

Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 1

I breathed slowly and deeply, trying to remain elegant and graceful. Elegant and Graceful was harder than it looked when walking down a creaky wooden floor with stiletto heels and a floor length dress whilst the whole town was looking at you. I was in fact, walking down the aisle.

This, although, was merely a technicality, as it definitely felt more like floating. Everyone here was acknowledging my presence with proud faces and approving smiles and it would be madness not to mention the very, very, jealous eyes that were all focused on my beautiful, beautiful wedding dress.

It was a traditional white, lined with the finest silk and covered in embroidery so detailed it was a work of art, and it was so soft and fine and weightless and it fit so well, it was as if the dress was designed for me and me alone. I looked at the man walking beside me, my dad, and his encouraging beam reassured me that this marriage was going to work.

It was August, mid-morning, in the charming town of Stars Hollow, in a quaint little church and it was every inch the picturesque wedding I'd always dreamed of. There were flowers everywhere; roses, lilies, carnations, daffodils; it was a little much but there was no control over my mother and her ideas. The guests were seated the cute white wooden furniture across the hall, and twinkling fairy lights illuminated the aisle I was so gracefully walking down. I saw everybody that had been there for me in my life, my parents, my grandparents, other family members, my school friends, and there were all here for my big day. Not everybody had approved of the wedding since we were only nineteen years old, but I knew they were just jealous that they hadn't found love this early in life, and I didn't care what anyone thought anyway; because I had Dean.

I watched his reaction when he turned round to look at me and it was like time had stopped. His face, his smile, his eyes, I knew I would do anything to make this marriage work because I knew we belonged together.

I beamed back at him and we both turned to the Minister.

It was time to become Mrs Lindsay Forester, and as I said those binding words, I meant them.

_[A Little While Later]_

It was legal. I was officially a married woman, and it felt great.

Dean and I stepped out of the church, hand in hand and shrieked excitably when bucket loads of bright confetti were showered in our direction by family, friends, and long lost relatives. We raised our entwined hands in unity and I just couldn't stop smiling at how happy we were and that we had actually got married. We allowed ourselves a moment to look into each others eyes and although I knew he was happy, I couldn't help but see a twinge of guilt in his eyes; as if he'd said or done something stupid ….

I quickly passed it off as tiredness due to his crazy bachelor party last night; I myself had had a quiet night in with my girls but since I knew men liked to do the whole wild night thing, I didn't mind at all how late he'd stopped out. I looked away swiftly when I noticed the enormous photograph of Dean and I positioned in the Town Square. We'd had a professional photograph taken a few weeks back but I had no idea it would be this public! I wasn't mad though, because it was a huge display of affection for the whole town to see, and I liked that everybody knew we were in love.

I thought back to the past months we'd spent together and how quickly it had all happened.

When I met Dean he was post-break-up. He was devastated after what _she_'d put him through, and I did all I could to help him get over her because I knew that I would be so much healthier for him to have me in his life, rather than a cheating liar that broke his heart twice. What they'd had wasn't special, he meant nothing to her, and it was heartbreaking that she let it go on so long. But now, he was happier than ever, I'd made him happy, and when he asked me to marry me so many weeks ago I felt like everything was finally falling into place. I said yes quicker than I could think, there was no reason to say no because there was no-one better suited than me and Dean; my Dean.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: These characters and this story belong to the writers of 'Gilmore Girls'.

_Just a quick note to say, before you read this, that the Lindsay I've written about in this story is a little more modern than the character shown on TV. I've also given her a bit more of a personality, since otherwise there would be nothing to write about. I hope you like it. _

Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 2 _'The Start of a New Life' _

It had been such an amazing day. The stars were out, the people were still high on life, (and punch) I had managed to avoid speaking to my mother alone, (I knew she wanted to have _that_ talk) and with Dean constantly by my side, it was undoubtedly the best day of my life.

After we'd said our whole-hearted goodbyes, it was time to leave Stars Hollow.

We were going to a hotel for the night, away from everyone, and then setting off on our honeymoon. I personally couldn't wait to have two whole weeks in complete and utter bliss with my new husband, but I could tell Dean was a little reluctant to leaving; probably since he'd never travelled much further than Chicago. My parents and Dean's parents had been annoyingly secretive over where our honeymoon was going to be, and as they were paying for it, I apparently had no choice on the destination. My mother had accidentally let slip it was in Europe though, and that alone had been enough to send me into excitement mode. I'd never been to Europe, and I secretly hoped it would be somewhere like Spain or Greece; somewhere ridiculously warm and somewhere we could simply relax. I couldn't wait to get away from my parents, and finally let the world know that I was no longer Lindsay Lister, I was now Mrs Lindsay Forester. I blushed at the thought because it sounded so perfect and _grown-up_.

I turned to my dad, and I held Dean's hand in anticipation as he opened the envelope containing the airline tickets.

"Lindsay, my beautiful Lindsay, you know we've always –" He began.

"Where are we going?" I couldn't stand yet another moving speech; I wanted to know already.

"We all decided on the beautiful city of … _Venice_!"

I shrieked again, for the umpteenth time today and started hugging my parents. Venice!

Notably one of the most beautiful cities in the world, and my husband and I were going there for an entire week. How could our parents afford this? A little voice inside my head told me not to think about it. I could imagine it; the clear blue skies, the Grand Canal, the gondola ride we would take through the city, the beach where we would relax, lost in translation, and the endless time to just be with each other. I was there now. I glanced over at Dean. He was mid-hug with his mother but I could tell he was pleased.

"Now you kids get gone!" Dean's mother laughed, but I was a little disappointed that they didn't seem to treat us any more … like adults. I took it with a pinch of salt and returned to being over the moon that we would be leaving in less than twelve hours.

The taxi pulled up on the side of the road to take us to the hotel. I swept my hair back, lifted my dress up, and got in, safe in the knowledge that I wouldn't have to face my family for a whole week.

I waved goodbye through the taxi window and burrowed my head in Dean's shoulder, him stroking my hair as I fell asleep.

The alarm clock buzzed. It was ten o'clock. Bliss. I made a mental note to thank my mother for getting later flights. I swiftly turned it off and slipped out of bed, not wanting to wake Dean just yet.

I'd changed into my elegant slip dress throughout the night, not wanting to crease my beautiful dress, so luckily it was no hassle in trying to get it off again. It had been a great night, and I was unbelievably thankful that it hadn't been spent in either one of our parent's houses. Now _that_ would have been embarrassing. I took a look of myself and gasped. My hair was a complete mess and I hadn't even taken off my make-up last night – I couldn't let Dean see me like this, not on our first day of marriage! I took a towel off the dressing table and hopped in the shower.

After having a long, hot, shower, I turned my hand to picking an outfit. Were jeans too informal for such an important day as this? We were going to remember today for the rest of our lives, and I figured even my favourite jeans weren't going to make the cut for such an important event.

Despite only really flying today, I wanted today to be just as perfect as yesterday was.

In the end, I settled on a simple little black dress from Forever 21, as the sales assistant had said it flattered my figure beautifully and it was very classy. It was one of the many pieces I'd bought to celebrate the proposal and teamed with my favourite JCPenney flats it was the perfect outfit.

I noticed Dean stirring in the bed, so I had to quickly do my hair and make-up before he got up. It took a half hour to put do the finishing touches, but I was ready to face my husband.

Unfortunately, he didn't look ready to see me. I climbed onto the bed and looked at the clock again.

Unable to wait any longer, I tried to wake him up.

"Dean," I whispered.

"Dean, it's time to get up," I raised my voice although this failed to get his attention.

It was hard to believe that this was the boy that got up at six o'clock every day for his job at the local grocery store, Doose's. It looked like he'd really needed a lie-in.

Realising that actions speak louder then words, I set the alarm again to go off in one minutes time.

I sat there for that one minute, just watching him, remembering that I was the single luckiest girl in the world.

_Beeeeeeeeep._ After watching him wake up in frustration, I smiled.

"Why are you dressed already?" He groaned after he'd turned off the alarm.

Ignoring his question, I replied, "I made you coffee, _husband_,"

His face twisted in confusion for a second, as if he didn't think it was real, but I handed him the coffee, hoping the caffeine boost would jog his memory.

Dean put down the coffee and kissed me. Laughing, he said, "I thought it was all a dream,"

I punched his arm playfully. "You are such a jerk, Dean."

"You want to get breakfast once I'm dressed?" He asked.

"Sure, but don't be long. I want to get to the airport as soon as – I have my eye on a new perfume,"

"You don't need new perfume, you already smell amazing,"

"All the same, it's not a crime wanting to smell like Sarah Jessica Parker,"

"Who?"

"Never mind. I'll be here reading my magazine once you're done,"

What I didn't tell him was that it was _seventeen_ magazine, the glossy I'd read all throughout my teen years. Married or not, I wasn't quite ready to give it up just yet.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: These characters and this story belong to the writers of 'Gilmore Girls'.

Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 3

I couldn't wait much longer. It was apparently only fifteen minutes till we got to the Venice Airport, but it had already been ten hours on the plane and I had never travelled for that amount of time. What were my parents thinking sending me to _Europe_? I would have been happy with Florida!

Dean was asleep. This flight had really taken its toll on him, especially since it was hard to keep the conversation going for that amount of time. I was glad I bought books to keep me company.

Unfortunately, he woke up to the sound of the pilot keeping the passengers informed of our whereabouts and noticed the girly book I'd picked up at the airport.

"Have you ever read Jane Austen?" Dean asked, keen to break the silence.

"We did an essay on 'Emma' last year, but I didn't really get into it. It's like, why is it so hard to read? It's too English and old-fashioned. I enjoyed watching _Clueless_ though, and it's basically the same plot just with a modern twist. Plus, wasn't the book five _hundred_ pages long, too?"

"Yeah, it is pretty long, but didn't you find it interesting?"

"It's about a match maker, right? I liked the idea to start with but everything gets so twisted and confusing and there seem to be too many characters. I couldn't understand it all,"

"But don't you think –"

I sniffed, "You really like 'Emma', don't you?" Dean turned to the window.

I rubbed his arm affectionately. "Dean, that is _so_ sweet. I love that you're well-read,"

Dean didn't start up a conversation again until we landed.

"Wow."

I joined him in admiration at the breathtaking view. "Now _that_ is worth ten hours," We held hands for a while, and didn't let go until the chaotic passengers started to get impatient to leave the plane and we had to move.

I stepped off the aircraft and took it all in, the sun, the sky, the wind in my hair, and looked behind me to see that Dean was having exactly the same reaction.

"This hotel is great," Dean remarked, after taking in the pool, the great restaurant and the unbelievable proximity to the beach. We weren't technically in Venice, that was way too expensive, but we were about a half hour from the beautiful city, and we knew a good full day would be enough to see all the sights. Plus, Venice didn't really have a proper beach, so I was glad.

When we got to our room, I was amazed. It was a real honeymoon suite! In the centre of the room there was a giant four poster bed sprinkled with scented rose petals and peppermints and bonbons, like something out of a fairy tale. As I looked around, there were expensive-looking toiletries and essentials that we were likely to have forgotten, and as I sat on the bed, I noticed the sheets were of the softest linen. I laid on the bed, beckoned for Dean to join me and we just laid there and fell asleep, with the door wide open and the sound of the buzzing airport still ringing in our ears.

Silence. It's all we'd come here for.

_Uh_. Time Difference sucked! Venice was 6 hours ahead of Hartford, so it was already half eight in the morning! We'd hardly slept on the plane, so I was experiencing the wonders of jet lag.

To get into the right time zone, we had to have a full day of being awake, resisting the temptations of sleep for at least another ten hours. Luckily, this meant we were down for breakfast early.

I couldn't wait for Italian coffee and croissants and pastries! We got good cakes at Westin's bakery in Stars Hollow, but I knew that Italian goods were going to be in a different league.

As soon as I'd had that first drop of Italian coffee, I was wide awake. They had cappuccinos and lattes and mochas here, so it was a whole new world from the coffee in Stars Hollow.

"Better than Westin's?" I asked, my moods lifted with the highs of caffeine.

"Better than _Luke's_," Dean remarked.

I'd never been to Luke's myself. I'd heard Dean mention the diner from time to time, but only briefly, and it was never a conversation topic.

"You used to go there a lot, didn't you?" I instantly wished I hadn't said it.

"Yeah, I did. We actually stopped by there the other day,"

"_We_?" I heard Dean used to go a lot with _her_. I'd totally forgotten about that.

"Me and Kyle and the guys from my bachelor party,"

I let out a little sigh of relief. I know I'd been a tad paranoid, but apparently, he'd invited her to our _wedding_. I needed to keep tabs on how much he was seeing her. Luckily, she never showed up to the wedding; it would have been so weird if she had.

I began tasting the wonderful croissant and felt so at home.

"So, what's on the agenda today?" Dean queried. He liked his schedules. He worked too hard.

"How does the beach sound?"

"Perfect, just like you," He replied, leaning in to kiss me. Soppy, it might be, but I couldn't think of anywhere I'd rather be right now.

_(Hey, Soul Sister – Train)_

"Italy is amazing! I'm afraid you're going to have to haul me onto the plane home, kicking and screaming, as there is no way I'm going back to Stars Hollow now," I laughed.

"You think I'd even attempt to get you on the plane? Once you set your mind to something, there is no compromise,"

"It's settled then. We are staying put here." I joked.

"When do we start apartment hunting?" Dean could lighten any situation, with his floppy hair and honest blue eyes. Everything was so easy with Dean. Married Life was going to be a breeze.

We were on our way to the beach, well prepared with hats, flip flops, our swimsuits and plenty of sun block. The proximity from the hotel to the beach was phenomenal; it even had its own strip of sun beds to make it even easier. After we'd got our sun beds, we headed to the bar for some drinks, a nice, cold iced tea for me, and a nice, cold Corona beer for Dean.

I sat down with the drinks, took a sip, settled down on the sun bed and got lost in my book, _Confessions of a Shopaholic_. I'd never really read much in the past, out of school I mean, but I was really enjoying this one. It might not be political or thought provoking or a classic, but it was interesting, witty, and very, very funny.

"Have you got a spare copy of 'Emma' in there, Dean? I know it's your guilty pleasure,"

I giggled uncontrollably, but Dean always laughed with me.

"No, but I am reading Jane Eyre again," He pulled out a battered copy from the beach bag.

"What is with you and the classics?" I rolled my eyes, melodramatically.

Dean just smiled.

"The copies you get even match the age of the book," I pointed to his copy; it looked like it had seen better days.

"Do not insult the book. It has feelings too," He replied, heavy sarcasm in his tone.

I stroked the book apologetically although still smiling at him.

"What's so great about your book anyway? It's all shiny, and new, and arrogant,"

"How can a book be arrogant?"

"It thinks it's better than my book,"

We just laughed at the sheer silliness of it.

"Maybe you could try reading a classic novel some time?"

"What's wrong with my book?"

"Nothing, it's just –"

"What?" I interrupted.

"Well, _Confessions of a Shopaholic_ hardly sounds … meaningful,"

I faked offence.

"You take that back, Dean Forester," I demanded, playfully. He broke into a smug grin.

"No," He crossed his arms.

"Fine then, but you're sleeping on the couch tonight," I matched his level of smugness.

"Couch? What couch? There is no couch in our room,"

"The floor then,"

"Ooh, you're so cold Lindsay. Why did I marry you again?"

"Because I can do this," I pulled him closer for a long lasting kiss.

"Race you to the sea?"

"You're on,"

We began running, idiotically, past all the tourists clutching their beloved cameras, and all the little children making sandcastles, and all the old couples in gross PDAs, lost in our own little world.

I wouldn't be surprised if all the people on that beach mistook us for reckless school children rather than a married couple; we were so happy and care free and silly, we certainly didn't look mature enough to be married. But I didn't care what anybody thought, I wouldn't have it any other way.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: These characters and this story belong to the writers of 'Gilmore Girls'.

_Sorry this took so long! Hope you like it..._

Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 4

It was day six of our vacation already. We were going home tomorrow, and it just felt way too soon. Way too soon to face my mother and all her questions and her compulsive need to know _everything_, and way too soon to go back to Stars Hollow. I loved my home, I loved the town, but going back meant we'd have to start studying as Dean and I planned to go to Southern Connecticut State college together soon, although Dean would probably still work at Doose's but in his spare time, which annoyed me since I wanted him to give it up so we could spend more time together. I had no idea how everything was going to work once we got back. I tried not to dwell on it and to enjoy the last full day we had of bliss. Today we were going to the city of Venice at last, to wander through all the confusing backstreets, to sit in St Mark's square drinking coffee and listening to the melodic orchestra, and going on a gondola through the Grand Canal. It was all here.

"I can't believe we are actually here," I put my shades on and stepped out of the boat and onto the dock. We'd decided to take the excursion to Venice, with a tour guide, rather than brave it ourselves.

"Lindsay, we've been here six days already," He gave his signature smile which still made my legs turn to jelly. How did he do that?

"Yes, but I still can't believe it. I keep thinking I'm going to open my eyes at any moment and have to wake up and face my mother at breakfast,"

He followed me out and placed his big strong arms around me and stroked my cheek.

"Feel real yet?"

"I'm getting there," He kissed my cheek.

"I'm the luckiest girl alive," I beamed, not caring who witnessed our happiness.

We stepped out of our bubble for a second to work out where the tour guide had gone.

"Have we lost him already?" I laughed, hysteria catching in my voice.

"Over there!" We started walking swiftly, trying to catch them up.

"Thank goodness we found him; I can't imagine where we'd end up if we were left in this city alone,"

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Now, as you know, Venice is built on water, which means none of the buildings here are perfectly straight,"

The tour guide was very descriptive and factual, as you would expect, but his pronunciation of some of the English words was a little off. Some of it was funny, but at other times it was just annoying.

It was hard to keep a straight face. So far I'd found out quite a lot about Venice, and although some was mind-numbingly boring, other parts were really interesting.

"It is very expensive to live here in Venice, due to the high …. taxes, and so the population is surprisingly low. Many of the Italians you see simply work here, 80 percent in the tourism industry, which means many of the buildings are not residential, they are just businesses. If someone is living there, there will be flowers hanging on the balcony of their house,"

"To add to this, it seems that the younger generation tend to move further towards the mainland, where life is a lot cheaper. Statistics say that in 2032 there will be nobody that lives Venice,

It was so fascinating how this city was run, and how without tourism, it probably wouldn't have survived. Dean seemed to be taking it all in as well, but from a glance without him noticing, it looked more like he had something on his mind.

"You don't have to listen to everything Luigi says," The tour guide was now rambling on about some old legend.

"Talk to me. What's on your mind?" I placed my hands on his shoulders, although straining to do it because he was so damn _tall_.

"Nothing, you, being here," His flustered vibe unsettled me.

I frowned. What was he thinking about?

We were wandering through the endless backstreets of Venice, crossing what felt like a million bridges and passing numerous quaint little shops, walking in the sticky heat with no shade.

I was very grateful to be cool again. Stars Hollow had survived through sweltering summers before, but it was nothing compared to this.

All of a sudden, as if from the Gods, it began raining. It was unbelievable.

"This is very common here. Little bursts of rain keep us from melting," Luigi chuckled.

I glanced into one of the boutiques by the side of us, and they didn't seem to be laughing too hard; were people likely to buy expensive designer clothes when it was raining? Did the shop keepers really want trails rainwater in their fancy shops? No. My guess was that they would soon shut up shop and put the kettle on. Or the coffee machine even. On the plus side, umbrella sales were significantly up.

When the rain had stopped, we turned the corner and there it was, the Grand Canal, as if it had been waiting for us all this time. I looked round and a lot of the tourists we'd been with had disappeared.

Luigi approached us and simply nodded to Dean; an – apparently – understood message in his gaze.

"What was that all about?" It was a muse, but Dean quickly responded, a sparkle in his eyes.

"I've got a surprise for you," I looked again, and spotted the huge – unmissable – Gondola dock.

"We're going on a Gondola Ride," I beamed. Of course, I had thought about going on one, but I'd been so caught up in everything else (D&G, what's a girl to do, ignore it?) that I had actually forgotten. I gave him a big bear hug and a peck on the cheek. Now my day was complete.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: These characters and this story belong to the writers of 'Gilmore Girls'.

Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 5

_(Beautiful World – Carolina Liar)_

I took a closer look at our gondola and was amazed. Dean had actually forked out for one of the more expensive gondolas, the ones that had soft plush heart shaped sofas and pillows and flowers and live music. It was like something out of a fairy tale. I stepped in to the gondola, wary not to fall in, and sat down, my smile not faltering for a second. Dean followed me in and placed his arm around me, holding on tight. The gondolier was dressed in tight black trousers and a stripy top, as they always do, and although it was obvious he had seen the sight a million times before, I knew he still quite couldn't believe its beauty either. The ride began, the gondola swinging to and fro on the bumpy canal, the vivid blue waters reflecting the sun's intense rays and the sky so clear and blue and cloudless that it seemed unreal.

I looked in the direction we were heading to see lots of buildings close together, forming a pathway between them, like the backstreets we had walked through not so long ago. There were flowers hanging from the balconies. People lived there? I imagined waking up every day to the sound of the gentle waves, walking up to the window and witnessing these endless skies, these infinite horizons and these magnificent waters _every day_; what could be more perfect than that? But then again, if you did witness these views every day, if you did walk though Venice all the time, and you regularly saw the Grand Canal in all its glory, it wouldn't be the same. You wouldn't see it as this grand, unbelievable city; you'd just see it as home. You'd get used to it; it would lose all its beauty because it would eventually become _normal_. And Venice was far from normal.

Suddenly, a man I hadn't noticed behind us began singing and playing the accordion. His music was wonderful, but I couldn't help but be glad he was behind us; it would have been so embarrassing if he was _serenading_ me. We slowly went through the gap in the buildings, and I felt like I'd got blinkers on, I could only see what was right ahead of me, and that was building after building after building. Looking at Dean, he was in his element. He looked as happy as me, and although part of me wanted to talk about it, to share our thoughts, another part of me wanted to just be quiet and enjoy the moment.

Minutes later we came to a bridge, and there were so many people standing over it, looking at us like we were the richest tourists in Venice, like we were so incredibly lucky to be in such a luxurious ride. This was probably the equivalent in driving round in an Aston Martin sports car in Stars Hollow.

I smiled gleefully, resting my head on Dean's shoulder, and resisted the temptation to close my eyes. If I did, it would be like admitting defeat, I couldn't let the moment slip away just yet.

The relaxing music continued, and as we approached more bridges, there were more and more tourists – judging by their reactions – that stopped to point at us. Whilst most stopped to point, others stopped to listen. The accordion player was very gifted, playing his music to the tempo of the waves, and delighting the crowds with his low pitched, gentle voice. It had been a good twenty minutes already, but I needed more time. I couldn't get off; not yet. Nobody could make me get off.

Dean finally spoke, "I know, I don't want it to end either," Dean and I always seemed to be on the same wavelength, the same page; it was like we were in sync with each others thoughts.

I craned my neck up to kiss him – forgetting where we were just for a second – and then mouthed "I Love You," just to remind him how I felt. He returned the phrase, but speaking it this time, making sure that everybody in Venice knew it. It was nice to be reminded of it now and again; not that I was insecure or anything, it just felt nice to hear it. That I was loved. Nothing meant more to me than that.

_Hi. Hope you liked this chapter. Just wanted to say yes, I know there isn't a lot that happens in the honeymoon, but I was so eager to move on to what happens next that I just left it at that. _

_There is more to come though, better hopefully ..._


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: These characters and this story belong to the writers of 'Gilmore Girls'.

Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 6

_Is it time already?_ I checked my watch. Four pm. I scanned the premises, looking for signs that they were home, hoping that they had gone out. Or had gone to bed early. I considered the possibility of my wishes coming true; they weren't looking good. I knew that the time would come eventually.

The time I'd have to face my parents again, face them as a married woman. God, that sounded funny.

I mean, I loved the fact that I was married to Dean, but it didn't seem like me. Lindsay, the girl that always had a plan, the girl that had a strategy, the girl that always had everything figured out. She was married at nineteen? That wasn't the plan! The plan was to meet 'the guy' in my late twenties – when I had a stable job and was fully independent – then get married and have kids. Where did it all go wrong? I looked at Dean. Oh; _that_ was why. Because I was hopelessly in love with him and could not wait to marry him. Stupid Dean. No, not stupid Dean. Lovely Dean. I don't know exactly why I wanted to tie the knot so fast, it wasn't like it was in the olden days anymore; the women weren't married off at a young age anymore. Yet I'd chosen to. I looked over again to Dean. _My_ Dean. I couldn't believe he was mine. We were stood at the front door of my house, in Stars Hollow, Peach Street, hand in hand, and buying as much time as we could by not knocking on the door. Our romantic Italian vacation had been brilliant, just not long enough. Not eight days ago had we been in the church across the road saying our vows. We'd been in bliss, and we'd also been parentless and Stars Hollow-less, living without a care in the world. We'd savoured every moment.

"You go," I gestured to the suddenly terrifying brass knocker on the door. We'd been at this for what felt like hours, neither of us wanting to go in and face my parents.

Dean finally admitted defeat and knocked on the door, whilst I closed my eyes, dreading what would happen next. I was so nervous. I mean, they would know. _They would know what I'd done since the wedding._ For sure at least. _Ugh_. I just prayed that my mother wouldn't try to talk about it again; that would just about push me over the edge. She'd attempted to get me alone to have that talk before we left for Italy, but I'd skilfully dodged her "Lindsay, I've got to talk to you urgently," callings by staying in large groups _at all times_. I was very lucky to avoid her then, but I knew I wouldn't be as fortunate now. I was on her turf now, under her roof, so there was no escape.

The door swiftly opened to reveal a tall blonde skinny woman and a tall plump bald man, both with broad smiles and open arms.

"Kids, you're home!" She exclaimed, more neurotically than usual. _Kids? Still?_ We exchanged glances and I tried to match her blinding smile, but failed.

"Well don't just stand there! Come in, come in! Welcome home!" She was prone to repeating herself in these sorts of situations. It drove me crazy.

"How was the flight?" My mother launched into interrogation mode, her winning streak in her version of '20 Questions' very unfortunate in this situation.

"Fine, Mrs Lister," Dean replied, polite as always, but vague enough to avoid further questions.

"Dean, _Dean_, call me _mom_; _please_," Her over exaggeration of every word was slowly killing me.

"Ok, er, _Mom_," Dean tried so very hard to keep a straight face whilst saying this. I backtracked.

Call her _mom_? I didn't even call her that. Why was she acting even more weird than usual?

"And the room?" She continued.

"Teresa, shouldn't we let them sit down first? It must have been a long flight," My dad stepped in to save the day. My mother flushed and gestured to the living room, her flustered vibe rubbing off on the two of us.

"Oh. Yes. Well, sit down and let me get you a drink," She disappeared into the kitchen, my dad following like a puppy.

We went to sit down in the living room, our over the top smiles quickly dropping, as they were very painful to hold up.

"I'm so sorry. I really didn't think they'd be this bad," I tried to think of an excuse for their odd (even for them) behaviour, but there was not one. Excited, I could understand, but _this_? It just didn't add up. What on earth must they have been discussing before we came?

My Mother swiftly re-entered the room with a tray of shortbread biscuits and tall plastic glasses and a mammoth jug of cranberry juice.

"Here you are," She placed the tray on the table and sat down, sitting nervously for a moment before being joined by my dad.

"So, how was your honeymoon? I know Lindsay-pie will fill us all in with all the details later but maybe just tell us a bit?" _Lindsay-pie? What the …?_ She promised to be on her best behaviour whilst Dean was here. Crap, I forgot to lay down the rules at the wedding. I should have stopped having so much fun and told her that she had to change. Although, that would have meant me talking to her alone, so maybe I did the right thing. I tuned back in, although Dean had already delved into the story telling.

"….. and the weather was just right, and the food was great, and the beach was good,"

Dean turned to me for support.

"Oh, yeah, it was really brilliant, thanks so much," I directed the smile at my dad, who looked to have a bit of a tear in his eye. I had no idea why. It's not like marriage was some kind of achievement.

"Well, good. On another note, I, well, _we_, have something to tell you kids," She looked dangerously excited. I held Dean's hand in anticipation. _Was she pregnant? Please, no!_

"I know you both had your hearts set on Southern Connecticut State, but we have a better idea," My mother turned to my dad.

"We thought you could live and work here, in Stars Hollow," He spat out, as if it were a confession.

"It'll mean you can start earning money straight away, we won't ask for rent, you can start saving for a house of your own and well, we'd _love_ to have you here,"

"Wow," was pretty much all I could say. I couldn't believe it; well, I tell a lie, I kind of was expecting it all along. Of course they wanted me to carry on living here! I was their sweet little Lindsay-pie, and they would do almost anything to keep me in this house. They were trying to guilt trip me, but I wasn't having it.

"Mr and Mrs Lister, I mean, er, _mom_, we are so grateful that you would offer, but I really do think we should put our education first. It will give me a better chance of getting a better job later on,"

They both spat out their cranberry juices. I had to try very hard not to giggle. I quickly jumped in.

"Yeah, I agree. I really want to work, you know? It's always been my dream to work with animals, and I know it'll never happen if I don't go to college," I decided not to say anymore. I didn't want to rub salt in the wound, so I thought it best to leave before they had a chance to react.

Before they could say any more, I stood up, grabbed my husband, started towards the door whilst yelling, "Thanks for the holiday, we really appreciate it," That told them. Trying to organise my life!

I needed to get out of that house. _For good this time._

I stopped, startled, only now realising something.

"College doesn't start for another three weeks. We won't get our dorm rooms until then,"

_Three more weeks of this? God, help me. _


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: These characters and this story belong to the writers of 'Gilmore Girls'.

_Here's the next installment of Lindsay's Dean! Sorry it's been a while, but I hope I can make up for it in the next few weeks. In this chapter you get to meet Erica and David, who are mentioned extremely briefly in Gilmore Girls in the episode that Dean and Lindsay are arguing at the Dragonfly. Lindsay claims that they were supposed to go out with Erica and David that night. I hope you like it! Plus, thanks for the awesome reviews! _

Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 7

SCSU. Standing in front of it, it looked so huge and intimidating and scary. I'd survived those three weeks with my parents, only just though, and now it was time to fly the nest. I'd so enjoyed packing my bags and saying goodbye because I really needed to. I didn't know how I'd be able to stand another second in a room with them. It was for their own good that I was gone. It felt so liberating to be free, and I couldn't wait to learn. I'd decided to take classes in Animal Care, Biology and Physical Education, and I figured this would give me the best possible chance of working with animals.

My arms were weighed down by heavy duffel bags and suitcases as we walked through the campus. I'd taken almost everything I owned. Only had I left little bits and bobs back at the house; my photo albums, my embarrassing teddy bears and a few items of clothing in case I – was forced to – spend the night there. I know I was a bad daughter for being the way I was, but I couldn't help it. Dean and I had requested to share a dorm room, as we were 'special circumstances' i.e. Married. Luckily they hadn't made much of a fuss about it. We had a whole room assigned to ourselves – what could be more romantic than that? My Mother had even organised a double bed to be delivered to our room this morning – extremely creepy but I was glad it was there. We were married now so it would be weird if we had separate beds. I swung open the door to room 17, ran into to one of the bedrooms and jumped onto the bed. Seconds later I heard a low pitched yelp.

"Ow! Get off!" There was a lump in the bed I hadn't noticed, and it began to move.

I screamed, jumped off the bed and ran over to Dean, panic stricken as to who the lump could be. There were another two bedrooms in the dorm room but I thought that they were simply spares.

This was definitely _our_ room! Nobody else's! The lump pulled the cover back to reveal a lanky dark haired teenage boy, whose expression suggested he didn't expect to be jumped on today.

I probably should have apologised for jumping on him, but instead I let all my queries explode out of my head.

"Why were you under the covers? Its eleven o'clock, and you can't have slept here because the rooms were only unlocked three hours ago. So, exactly who are you and what are you doing here? This is mine and Dean's dorm room so I suggest you go over to room _eigh_teen where you _should_ be," Dean didn't even attempt to stop me. He just stood there, confused. He didn't even stand up for me; for us. This was our room.

"Oh my God, woman. Shut _up_!" He answered, although not really answering anything.

"I'm sorry, man. I'm Dean, by the way, and this is Lindsay, my … wife," Dean put his hand forward to shake his. He kind of mumbled that last part but the mystery intruder was quick to pick up on it.

"Married? You actually serious?" His eyes lit up. Gossip.

"Deadly, but you still haven't explained anything. Who are you?" I spat, not pausing for breath. This was hardly what I had expected.

"I'm David. Pleased to meet you Lindsay,"

"And you are here ….?"

"Because I was assigned to this room. If you haven't noticed, SCSU don't really have any sweet little love nests sitting around on campus. I'm afraid you're both just going to have to suck it up and share the dorm with two other people,"

"_Two_?" Sharing with this David was going to be difficult, but another one? By my luck it would be another guy. Dean, David and what's-his-face, all hanging out together in their awesome guy's bachelor pad while whiny little Lindsay tries to study with earplugs solid in her ears, trying to block out the awful rap music blaring from the stereo. What a great picture.

David laughed, his eyes crinkling at the sides. How funny we must look to him.

"Yeah, he or she hasn't arrived yet," He sighed.

"I hope it's a guy, or a really hot girl," David mused. College life was going to be awful. What with two messy, lazy, irresponsible guys around – plus Dean – and me scurrying around all day, trying to keep everything clean. Either that or some slut bringing boys home every night. I wanted it to be just me and Dean. Our college experience. Everybody else would be irrelevant.

"So, you guys are married then? You're what, _nineteen_? What was the rush?" David wasn't polite at all. He was downright gobby. I turned to Dean in reassurance: I knew he was dying to say something like, "I love Lindsay so much and I absolutely could not wait for her to be my wife. I just thought, why wait?" so I let him answer.

"Oh, well. I proposed, and she said yes. Lindsay's great and there's no point waiting around,"

Was that it? I wasn't expecting something out of Romeo and Juliet, but I at least wanted him to include that he loved me. Was I that much of an embarrassment?

Before I could analyse it any more, David interrupted my thoughts.

"Right then. So, before the fourth roomie gets here, can I just say, if it's a really hot girl I'm entitled to her, right Dean?" David said this as if it was completely normal. For him, it probably was.

"Dean's _taken_!" I snapped. David smirked; he was enjoying this.

Moments later, the door swung open, yet again, and it looked as if we were about to meet the fourth member of our dorm. We all gathered into the common room to find a flame haired freshman girl with an agitated manner displayed by the way she carried her three suitcases.

"Stupid thing. Why did you have to break on me?" She cursed, before looking around to see her three new roommates, us, sat down on the couch, intently watching her.

"Sorry about that. It's been a long day," The girl apologised, entering the room with as much difficulty as it had been outside. The wheels of her suitcases weren't co-operating properly and one of her bags had a large rip down the side of it. I stood up to greet her, a smile on my face.

I was so glad it was a girl, and not a slutty one either. David was welcome to her as I had the feeling she'd clonk him round the face if he tried it on with her.

"Hi, I'm Lindsay,"

"I'm Erica. And this is everything I've ever bought," She pointed to her heavy baggage.

I laughed with her. From what I could tell, she was a really nice, genuine girl.

Dean and David both got up to shake her hand.

"Hi Erica. I'm Dean, and this is –"

"David Andrews, it's nice to meet you Erica," David raised his eyebrows, cockily, and instead of shaking her hand kissed her cheek. It was only quarter past eleven and you could tell David was already eyeing up our new roommate. Erica smiled, pulling her hair from her eyes.

"The pleasure's all mine David Andrews," I could see where this was going. I guess I was wrong about her clonking him. Shame, she looked so smart.

"So, what classes are you thinking of taking this –" Dean began again.

"_Boring_!" David exclaimed. How he'd gotten into college was a mystery.

"So, Erica. You know, these lovebirds are married?" Of course she didn't know. She walked in less than two minutes ago.

"Really? Wow!" Erica looked lost for words. She looked round to study the two of us.

"May I just ask something?" Scarlet asked, carefully watching her words.

"Sure you can," I didn't like the way Dean was smiling at her.

"_Why_?" She replied.

I sighed. College was going to be a constant repetition of this question, wasn't it? They were never going to let it go. I linked arms with Dean, hoping that this was explanation enough, yet writing myself an invisible note to myself that Dean was not off the hook just yet. He was in trouble.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: These characters and this story belong to the writers of 'Gilmore Girls'.

_Hey, yes, I'm rubbish at updating, BUT I had to do rewrites of these next few chapters to make it perfect, so I hope you like it. And I want to know what you think of Lindsay: lovestruck teen, clingy housewife or scheming plotting wife? I'd be interested to know your thoughts... Enjoy!_

Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 5

College wasn't really what I'd expected. Of course it was big and scary and intimidating as I'd always thought it would be, but it was so hard. I didn't expect to just be able to cruise through these years but there was just so much pressure. My Animal Care class was running pretty smoothly, but Biology and Gym class were more than I could handle. _Why had I picked those classes?_ Gym class was a breeze for me in Stars Hollow High.

I'd won awards last year for my talent in Hockey, Netball and Cheerleading. These sports were all in the syllabus at college, but they didn't feel the same. They weren't fun anymore. And to add to this, all the girls that picked this class were all snooty, upper-class snobs, and were violently aggressive when the teacher's back was turned. Not a single one of them a potential friend; so Gym class was definitely not going to plan. Biology was worse. All the students were quiet and geeky and remarkably intelligent, which meant that my lack of knowledge and understanding of the terminology mentioned was sticking out like a sore thumb. David, on the other hand, was fitting in perfectly. Ok, I tell a lie, he was fitting in perfectly with the girls on campus.

After a light rejection from Erica, he decided to open his range i.e. the whole female population on campus.

I didn't know David very well but I could tell he saw himself as a ladies' man. If he actually was was a mystery to me. Erica was doing great with her studies; she'd picked, Italian, English, Law and History; a combination I envied. She'd so far no public boyfriends' to speak of, but I knew it wouldn't be long before she'd snapped one up.

"Hey, Linds," Erica looked up from her computer screen and beamed.

"Hey Erica. Won the lottery or something?" I joked, referring to her dazed appearance.

"No, no, no. I just got a paper back that's all," She blushed, holding up her History essay.

I looked closer to see a vibrant red 'A+' marked on it.

"Well done. You worked so hard on that one too, so you deserve it,"

"Aw, thanks. Hey, you busy tonight? I thought we could celebrate or something,"

"No, I'm free. And hey, I just got a paper back too, but I haven't seen the grade yet. I might be celebrating too," Erica's smile gleamed even more, although I knew she was a little smug because she was sure I wouldn't get a higher grade than her.

I opened my bag to get my Animal Care assignment. It took me weeks and weeks to complete, hours of my free time were given up and I'd stayed up until the early hours finishing it. I knew that even if I failed all my other classes, I at least had Animal Care. I also knew that I had to excel in it to get on the path I wanted, so I took it really seriously. Every class was followed up by pages upon pages of notes, and since this was my first major assignment, I spent way longer than necessary to get it perfect.

I took it out, optimistic and flipped to the back page to see the grade.

_What?_ It was a D. A big, fat D, written the same shameful red that my face now displayed. I'd never gotten a D in anything. Ever. This was such a disappointment.

"What'd you get?" She asked. I frowned.

"I … I … I got a D," I whimpered, still clutching the crumpled paper.

Erica jumped up from her computer and gave me a hug. I needed one.

"That can't be right," She concluded, grabbing the pages and browsing through them.

Seconds later, a sympathetic look appeared on her face and she avoided my gaze.

"_So_?" I screeched.

"Linds, I think you'd better look though this, the teacher actually made some valid points here. But I mean, he may be criticising your work a little here, but it means you can improve on your next one and get the A+ you deserve,"

This was not the response I expected – or wanted – to hear right now.

I sat down on a nearby chair, put my feet up, and dropped my head. I was so ashamed.

"Linds, babe, are you crying?"

I stifled a Yes, and tried to wipe away the heavy tears that were falling off my face.

_How could this happen?_ I knew it was my first paper and it was stupid to judge my whole future college life on it, but I couldn't help but wonder what I was doing here.

"Linds, you mumbled something,"

"I need to get out of here."

"Ok, let's go," Erica ushered me out of the room and we headed out of the dorm, not entirely sure where we were heading to.

Since I'd started at SCSU, I'd made a real friend in Erica. We were getting on like a house on fire. We were into all the same music, the same books, the same films and we both had great taste in fashion. She was very well organised – as you could tell by all her study charts and calendars in her room – and extremely intelligent. I envied her so much. She had everything; she was pretty, she was smart, she had an amazing wardrobe and was passionate about so many things from the environment to women's rights.

We didn't talk at all as we walked up the path, past the rusty gates I'd grown to love, past the big blue 'Welcome' sign I'd befriended on my first day of college, past the coffee machine that kept me sane.

I felt betrayed by this big intimidating school. The brochure I'd glossed over so many months ago had promised me so much; an education, an experience, a future. I thought back to twenty minutes ago when I'd been handed back my paper on my way out of class; did the teacher give me a sympathetic look? Did she pity me?

Now, come to think of it, maybe she should have given me some support, some guidance, some advice!

I shouldn't have to suffer because she was an incompetent educator! But the thing was, I'd lost my confidence.

I'd lost that momentum to keep learning and to keep going because I had evidence that was screaming at me to give up. _Give up! Quit now! Before it's too late!_ My paper was yelling at me from inside my bag.

I looked up to see the warm, welcoming coffee house standing before me. Erica knew me well.

"Coffee makes everything better." I smiled weakly and made my way inside, taking in the overpowering aroma of sweet coffee – true heaven. I ordered us both two large cappuccinos and two supersize chocolate muffins, before saving us the prime table spot that had beautiful plush armchairs around it.

I plonked my bag down and attempted another smile as Erica sat down to join me. The coffees and the muffins were soon brought over to us, and even though I knew Erica was being a good friend today, I could see her sympathy as I tucked into my mammoth muffin. I felt like a charity case.

"You don't have to do this," I murmured, as if I was talking to my muffin.

Erica's face turned in mock horror.

"What do you mean? Of course I do! This is what friends do – they help each other through the hard times,"

I shrugged. I'd had friends in the past but even the close ones I hadn't talked to since high school.

"Have you been struggling in class?"

"Yes," I admitted, reluctantly.

"What have you done about it?"

I said nothing.

"Does Dean know you're finding it hard? He should encourage you to get help," She scolded.

"No, I haven't said anything,"

"Lindsay. You've got to go to your teacher and ask what you did wrong, and how you can improve. It's the only way," She looked me right in the eye for confirmation, and I nodded.

"Now, then. Hmmm…" Erica thought long and hard for a second, contemplating something.

Then her eyes light up as if she'd made a decision. Erica picked up the chocolate muffin in front of her and took a large bite out of it.

"Diet's are stupid." She decided; confidently as well.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: These characters and this story belong to the writers of 'Gilmore Girls'.

_Thank you so much for your great comments. I'm considering the idea of writing two alternate endings to this story as I love writing it so much; The first ending would be where Rory and Dean have the affair and it is exactly how it is on the show - which is what I set out to write - but I could write another one with a completely different ending going in a completely different direction. What do you think?  
_

Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 9

I'd decided to give college a second chance; give it the benefit of the doubt. I just had to work harder that was all; surely this setback would motivate me? I was in Animal Care class when I decided this, and rather than wallow in my own self pity because I got a bad grade, I decided to do something about it. Erica was right; I needed to find out what I did wrong, improve, and then move on. It was almost like a bad break up. Then I needed to work out what I was doing wrong in my other subjects before it got ugly.

"Miss Williams?" I asked my Animal Care teacher after class.

"Yes, Lindsay," She sighed. I knew she'd never liked me much.

Miss Williams was around thirty years old and had a habit of making people uncomfortable. She turned around to face me from her colossal wooden desk, her brows arched and her thick glasses positioned on the ridge of her nose. The intimidating teacher swept her wavy black hair behind her ears and stared at me. She didn't look like she had time to discuss anything.

"I was wondering if I could talk to you about the grade for my assignment."

"Ah. Yes," She whispered, almost a breath.

"Lindsay, I know you put a lot of hours into this piece, but I just don't think you understood the task,"

I took a quick breather. Didn't understand the task? What kind of a lame-o criticism is that? I'd written ten pages, and she only recommended five!

"I did understand the task. It was to research a domestic animal and find out about its needs and also the history of that particular animal. It was recommended that you interviewed a pet owner. I did all of this," I stressed. I'd interviewed my Great Aunt, who had several cats, all of different breeds and she used to run a cattery! I'd had it so easy – what the hell could be wrong with it?

"You didn't use anything from class, though. And if I'm honest with you, when I read it I suspected it was a Wikipedia regurgitation,"

"Excuse me?"

"I suspected that you had copied articles from the internet and tried to pass them off as your own,"

"Did you?" She accused.

"_No_!" I barked.

"And you didn't exactly 'research' an exotic pet, did you? You went for 'cats', the animal that every single other student I've ever taught goes for. I've read all this stuff millions of times before!"

"What animal was I supposed to pick? A Hunchback _whale_?" I'd never spoken to a teacher like this before, and I almost regretted saying it, but surprisingly it began to feel good. She was being a complete cow, and as a teacher she should have helped me out.

"In my assignment I used all my notes from class, I spent hours in the library doing book research, and I chose to research cats because my Great Aunt used to own a cattery!"

"I'm sorry, Lindsay, but this piece of work simply was not good enough."

"I don't know what to say,"

"I think you should talk to your Guidance Counsellor. I'm not sure this class is for you." And with that she went back to her desk, picking up a random pile of papers, pretending that she had work to do. I walked out of that heated room and paced back to my dorm, knowing full well that I would have to go back to Erica; to _Dean_ and pretend that everything was okay, even though inside I would be tearing my hair out, crying; screaming, and wondering how on earth I had got myself into such a tangled mess.

* * *

"Hey, babe. Everything sorted?" Damn, I told Erica I was going to talk to my teacher today. She looked worried about me. She gazed at me, suspiciously.

I smiled convincingly. "Yeah. She was real nice about it," I lied, trying to keep up the act. I knew I couldn't hold it for long; Erica wasn't stupid, and I was a bad liar.

Erica smiled back but then took a closer look at my attitude.

"Lindsay, are you alright?" She questioned, her tone gentle and motherly.

I waited for a second and then replied, "Yes. I'm fine. It's all fine,", before awkwardly stumbling into my room and bursting into tears. Thank God Dean was out. He didn't need to see this.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: These characters and this story belong to the writers of 'Gilmore Girls'.

_Hi. I've decided to start writing dedications on my chapters, so please keep reviewing! This chapter is dedicated to Forever Blonde as she has written reviews for every single chapter of this story so far - Thanks for your continued support! _

Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 10

Dean was studying meticulously, scribbling in his note books, thinking hard, when I realised that Dean and I hadn't had a conversation over five minutes in the past four months.

"Dean, do you think we've become closer since college?" I pondered, my speech almost a monologue.

Dean grunted in response. That just about summed up our current relationship. Dean had everything going for him right now; a great study plan, a really cool room mate – David and loads of friends that came over on a regular basis and not to mention the fact that he was acing his classes too. Of course I had Erica, but that was about it. I hadn't made any other friends on campus and it was beginning to get me down. Erica had her own friends too and although she kept saying she'd let me meet her friends, I didn't want to seem that desperate.

Dean and I hadn't been going out as much as I'd hoped, and I feared that it was because he didn't have to impress me; he had no fear of losing me anymore because those vows meant I had to stick around no matter what. I really hoped that that wasn't the case. College was meant to be an experience, right?

"So, do you fancy going out tonight? There's this new restaurant near campus and it's –" I began. If he wasn't going to make an effort then maybe I should. Why should I have to stay home because he forgot to ask me out?

"Er, not tonight. I've got this essay to finish. Plus, I kind of promised David we'd have some of the boys round. Have a drink and all that. Maybe some other time." He replied, casually, not meeting my eyes.

"Oh. Right. Yeah. Some other time." I stuttered, not used to being rejected like this.

Dean quickly picked up on my odd speech.

"Hey, if you want me to cancel –" He started.

"No, that's fine." I quickly answered, without thinking.

Damn Dean and his stupid reverse psychology. He knew how I worked, and he knew for a fact that I would never make him cancel his night like that. One of these days I would make him cancel. That would teach him.

"Dean, I have to tell you something –" I found myself blurting out.

"Yuh?" He replied, his eyes not leaving his papers.

I paused for a second; deciding whether or not I should explain what was going on. How I hated college, how I hated that we weren't really talking anymore, how the plan wasn't really panning out. But then he looked up from his work, with the exact same expression as my Animal Care teacher did the other day – that annoyed, irritated, _get on with it_ look – and I decided that now was probably not the best time to tell him. It wasn't like I'd get any response out of him, anyway.

Dean didn't care what I had to say anymore. The way he was looking at me; that was not a look of love or care or passion, as I'd seen on our honeymoon as we took a ride in that gondola on the Grand Canal that beautiful summers day. It was just Dean being awkward. I'd hoped he'd never change from the moment we got married, but since we came to college, something had definitely left his eyes. I then realised that he was still staring at me with that awful look

"You know what? It doesn't matter."

This was obviously the 'problem' he'd been hoping for, as he smiled for a brief second, and returned to his work.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: These characters and this story belong to the writers of 'Gilmore Girls'.

_Hey! Told you I would update. I'd like to dedicate this chapter to Summer2391 - Thanks for reviewing so much over the last few weeks and giving me so many cool ideas. :) This one's for you. Hope you like it... _

Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 11

I headed out of the room and back into school, trying to remain composed. How could Dean act that way with me? I was trying so hard to act like I was enjoying college and that everything was fine for his sake, and there was Dean, making life even harder for me; making it impossible to tell him the truth. College was definitely putting a strain on our relationship, and I didn't know how long I was going to be able to pretend I hadn't noticed it.

I went over to my locker to get some of my books, carelessly handling my books because they didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore. When I closed the door an unfamiliar face appeared.

"Gosh, you scared me!" I gasped. I was not used to seeing old women stood at my locker, staring at me.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Lindsay, isn't it?" She furrowed her eyebrows, as if she wasn't sure if she'd got the right girl.

"Yes, it is. Do I know you?"

"I'm Mrs Reynolds," She held out her wrinkled hand to shake.

"Nice to meet you," I replied politely, although I admit I was a little freaked that she knew my name.

I studied the lady. She looked to be in her mid-fifties, with a weird and wacky fashion sense. She donned an electric blue silk shirt, a yellow pencil skirt and some nude patent heels. I wasn't quite how I felt about the ensemble but she sure looked to pull it off.

"Lindsay, I was wondering if I could speak with you in my office?" She spoke in a hushed tone and looked suspicious as she checked the hallway from behind.

"Sure," I shrugged. I followed her across the corridor warily, and into her little office a few yards away.

The walls were painted a garish orange, but the black accessories somehow made it stylish. It represented her perfectly, or as far as I could tell anyway. I sat down on the opposite side of her glossy black desk, on a plush black armchair that looked like it had been picked out of an interior design magazine.

"So, Lindsay. How are you?" Mrs Reynolds asked, casually, as if we'd known each other our whole lives.

"Fine," I lied.

"And school's okay?" I felt like I was talking to some kind of shrink. Was I?

"Under control," I answered, robotically. It felt scripted.

"What is?" I took it back; she wasn't behaving like a shrink, she was behaving like she was talking to a disobedient child at kindergarten. Why was she being so patronising?

"Work, classes, everything, you know. Why did you call me in here, may I ask?" I diverted the subject back to her. If she was going to ask questions, then so was I. What did she want?

"I need to talk to you; about your classes. See, I'm your Guidance Counsellor,"

I'd almost forgotten. It had been a few weeks since that horrendous paper, and Miss Williams had suggested I make an appointment to see my GC, but I didn't bother. I never thought she'd check.

"Oh, right. Well, I'm guessing Miss Williams set up an appointment," I sighed. She'd caught me out.

"No, it wasn't actually. It was your Biology teacher that came to see me. He's concerned about your progress."

My heart sank. So there were two of them onto me now; great. They were all ganging up on me to kick me while I was down. Some school this was.

"Have you been finding it hard?" What a cliché.

"What?" I showed my offence. Was she suggesting I was a bad student?

"Your classes," She clarified.

"Not really. I just need to work harder, that's all. There's really no need," I shook off the burning embarrassment I felt and the shame that was spreading through my cheeks.

"To?" She elaborated. Miss Reynolds was all about the questions.

"To talk about it. I got few bad grades, so what? I'm not used to such an intense environment. I'll improve, I swear."

"Simply improving isn't good enough at this point. You're behind in your studies and your teachers have all pressed concerns about your progress here,"

"Behind? I'll catch up. It can't be that hard." I was determined enough to sort this. I had it all under control. There was no need to make such a fuss – I was going to get better. This wasn't a big deal.

"I think we need to talk about your next move," Mrs Reynolds asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You certainly can't carry on like this. How do you feel about extra credit? Or maybe dropping a class?"

"I don't need to drop a class; this is all being blown out of proportion; there _is_ no problem here,"

I'd never spoken to anybody like this before in my life; it felt almost liberating.

"I think you need some help; college isn't easy,"

I scowled at her; how dare she? I'd tried so hard to fit in, to do well, to be a good student, but it was all backfiring on me, and there was nothing I could do to salvage what was left.

"Lindsay, you're not very socially active either. You haven't made many friends, and we're concerned."

"You're worried about me; about my grades, about my 'social development'! Well, at least there's somebody out there that cares. Because it certainly isn't Dean!"

"Who?"

"Dean; my _husband_. He couldn't care less about me!" I cried.

"Lindsay, I think you need to calm down."

By this time, I'd just about had enough of this stupid room, this stupid teacher, and this stupid college.

"_What am I doing here_?" I yelled, jumping up from my seat hysterically, having an epiphany, or what some may describe as a fit.

"I think I should refer you to a therapist," She scribbled at her paper.

"I don't need therapy – I need to get _out_ of here! I only just managed to get the grades I needed to go here, and now I'm struggling in all my subjects, _I'm falling behind_, and _I can't do it_! It's all too much. I can't handle it."

Before she could say anything else I disappeared out of the room. I sprinted down the corridor, not looking back, and out into the fresh, crisp autumn air. What was I going to do? I couldn't go back to my parents, could I? There were too many questions that so desperately needed answering, and here wasn't the place to do it. I headed out of campus, staring at my trainers, and then looked up to the sky. The answers weren't there. But luckily, the sky provided me with the optimism I needed. _It's all going to work out_, I told myself. _It has to._


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: These characters and this story belong to the writers of 'Gilmore Girls'.

_Hey, guys! I know lots of you have so many cool ideas about how this story could go, and although I appreciate your ideas, I kind of wanted to start with my own interpretation of the story. Hey, I might even do an alternate ending to my own story. Who knows? Anyway, thanks for your continued support. Hope you like this one. This chapter is dedicated to TL22 - Thanks for your fab comments!_

Chapter 12

My plan to get some air wasn't very well executed. I didn't know where to go to. Where I could think about what I could do; what _we_ could do. Of course I'd talk this over with Dean before I did anything drastic, but I he wasn't somebody you could really turn to for advice.

I could imagine the conversation,

_Dean, I've got a problem. I can't go here anymore._

_Why not? _

_College isn't for me anymore, I'm sorry. I need some support, and advice._

_Give it more time._

_I don't need more time! _

_But what are we going to do, Lindsay? We had a plan._

_So what was this diabolical plan? _

_To graduate. We were supposed to graduate, Lindsay. What happens now?_

_I was asking _you_!_

It wasn't exactly what I needed, so avoiding him for the time being was probably the best way to prevent this future argument, or at least delay it.

I kept walking, searching my brain for a quiet place. My parents' house? Out of the question. The library? Too many strangers. The park? Too many children. The church? Too cold and … religious.

There was only one place I could think of that could satisfy my needs for quiet. I quickened my pace and yanked out my wallet, which luckily was in my satchel with me. I knew where I needed to go.

I slid open the heavy wooden door and then pushed it shut. It was unlikely that anybody would find me here.

I turned the lights on and they flickered like lightning – it was an old electricity system. I strode over to the garish rosettes and the gleaming trophies and the prestigious awards displayed on the walls and in the proud glass cabinets. It all looked so fancy. But as much as I enjoyed looking at them, my eyes were drawn to the amazing grand piano that stood triumphantly at the back of the stage. The wooden floor was extremely creaky and it made an ear-splitting noise as I walked towards it. The grand piano looked so confident, so proud, so wise. It was the same perception I'd had of SCSU – the idea that it would look after me, protect me, keep me safe. But in reality it had been none of those things. It had just been a mask, a disguise, a cover up to hide the cold hearted selfishness it possessed inside.

Miss Patty's Dance Studio held a lot of memories. Living in Stars Hollow my whole life, it was only natural I be encouraged to take dance lessons. And when I did, I was surprised how naturally it came to me. I was often praised for my natural ability and my poise and my elegance; compliments I took in my stride. For those four years, I felt like I was born to dance; it was so incredibly wonderful when I got up on that stage, the blinding spotlight and the entire audience focusing solely on me that I never wanted it to end. Miss Patty was a great support but although she taught me that it's never too late to be a star, I eventually took a reality check and realised it wasn't going to happen. One day I just quit, and that was that. I could never remember exactly what drove me to that decision – possibly something my mother had said – but I had for some reason stood by it all these years.

I thought about the last time I was here, months and months and months ago. Years, even? I just couldn't keep track of time these days. It was one of the traditional Town Meetings that were held every month by the famous Taylor Doose and Miss Patty. Dean and I had attended together for a laugh; I never took these things seriously. Unfortunately, though, we'd ran into _her_ just after. The ex. _Rory Gilmore_ was with her mother Lorelai, and rather than avoiding them like I usually did, Dean had to say hi. Rory was talking about her acceptance to Harvard, and reciting some stupid anecdote I was a part of, but I didn't respond.

I barely said anything; I just couldn't bring myself to talk to her. I saw the way she looked at my Dean. I knew she'd never gotten over him; deep down.

Whilst Dean and Rory had been dating, she'd met this other guy; Jess Mariano, his name was.

From what I'd heard, Rory had been lusting after Jess for weeks and weeks and weeks, but stringing Dean along by denying the obvious signs that she liked Jess. Dean never talked about it, but she really hurt him. I knew I'd healed the bruises she left but Dean had always felt protective over Rory, and he wanted them to remain friends after the split (a while after, though) which meant I'd had no choice but to stand and observe it.

Jess and Rory weren't together anymore so I knew that she wanted him back; she'd now realised she'd made a mistake by picking Jess all that time ago, so now she wanted to claim back what was hers first.

Dean and I hadn't been very close since we started SCSU. He was studying all day long, and even at weekends he was with David. We had our own room but we only work and slept in it. Dean made no effort to spend time with me, and our last conversation before today consisted of seven syllables. I think it was,

_Turn out the light, please. Ok. _Married life was so boring. Things were definitely not working out at school, and I couldn't make it. I didn't know what to do. How could I tell people I'd failed?

Dean would be so disappointed. I sat down on the step and tried to think, but when I did it all came flooding back to me; my failing education, my crumbling marriage, my _impossible_ situation. I couldn't help but start whimpering and crying at the bitter truth. The plan had gone wrong; I _wasn't_ going to graduate. We _weren't_ going to conquer the world together. The salty tears kept rolling down my cheek, and falling into my hands. I bent over to hide my face even though nobody could see it, and made some awful noises through my nose that couldn't be stopped.

I just sat there, for about half an hour, until the heavy wooden door slid open once again. I didn't hear it at first, but when the voices of old ladies crept into my ear, I knew I was no longer alone.

People had found me. It was time to face them.

"Lindsay? Lindsay, is that you, honey?" Miss Patty asked, her gentle voice soothing to my ears.

I stifled a whimper in response, too embarrassed to use my bubbling voice.

"Lindsay, what are you doing here?"

"I don't know," I managed to speak, my tone wavering up and down like a yo-yo.

"Well, come on, we'd best get you to your Mom,"

"Teresa'll know what to do," Another voice interjected. Probably another small town mother.

That was the last voice I heard before it all went black and I drifted into the distant realms of unconsciousness.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: These characters and this story belong to the writers of 'Gilmore Girls'.

**_Hi. Me again. Got another chapter for you! This chapter is dedicated to Ace5492 - you are well and truly wonderful! :) And also to ForeverBlonde - you rock! x  
_**

Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 13

"Lindsay," It was my mother. For once, I was glad to see her. Only she could help sort my mess of a life out. I sniffed.

"Lindsay, it's your dad and me. We're gonna' get you home,"

My dad bent down and lifted me up, carrying me out of the studio. I hated to think what people were saying about me. News travelled fast in such a small town.

When I got home, after being publicly carried through Stars Hollow, my dad gently positioned me on the sofa. The sympathetic expression on my parents' faces was not something I'd witnessed before.

I knew I'd have to explain.

"Lindsay, what happened? Why were you at Miss Patty's? Are you alright? Is it Dean?"

There were too many questions being fired at me all at once. I would stumble at answering my own name at this point.

"Teresa; let the poor girl breathe," My dad smiled and winked at me.

I took a two minute breather and looked them in the eye.

"I thought I had everything under control, but I don't. College isn't working out, and I can't make it work. I don't fit in there, and everything's so _hard_. Dean and I don't even spend time together anymore, and I'm scared we'll drift apart!" It felt so liberating to let everything out. I rested my head in my lap and fought back the tears again.

"Oh, honey," My mother comforted me, rubbing my back.

"I can't let us drift apart! I just _can't_!" I squealed, vaguely aware of my off pitch.

"Lindsay, it's going to be okay,"

"_Everything's falling apart_."

There was a short silence.

"This is all my fault!" I screeched, avoiding my parents' fiery stares.

"No it's not," My mother consoled.

"I should never have gone to college! I should have known I'd _hate_ it!"

"Stop being so hard on yourself. Lindsay, this is _not_ your fault."

There was another awkward pause. No-one dared to break the silence.

"Now Lindsay, are you absolutely 100% sure that you don't want to go to college anymore? _Definitely_? You could try a little longer, just to be certain –" My dad was already strategising. No more was his soft gentle tone of voice, or sympathy; he was in Work Mode.

"Yes. I know it's rash and stupid and completely insane, but these past few months have been enough to convince me that I can't hack it. I'm no good at Biology or Gym or even Animal Care!"

I know I was acting like a spoilt precious little girl but I needed to tell someone about it. I'd spent all this time trying so hard to conceal how I felt, how out of place I felt.

"Aren't there people there to help you with that sort of thing?" Dad asked.

"I'm sick of people trying to _help_ me! I don't need help! I need a way _out_!"

My mother started talking at me.

"Ok, then, so school is out. That's fine. We weren't that keen on you going anyway, so how about if you both lived here for a while?"

"College is too far for Dean to study from here." I sighed. Nobody had the right answer.

"Dean wouldn't be going to college if you lived here."

I took a second to process this.

"No. Dean _loves_ school. He loves _learning_. How could I take him away from that?"

"Honey, you're going to have to play the Wife card. _You_ come first. And Dean is just going to have to take a semester or two off," My Mother concluded, folding her arms.

"Or that's what we'll tell him, anyway," She added, speaking in hushed tones as if Dean were in the room right now.

"I can't lie to him! He's my _husband_! Does that not mean anything?"

It obviously didn't. My mother looked nervous and twitchy in her seat, as if she couldn't get a grip.

"Lindsay, you –" She started.

"I'll tell you what we're going to do," My dad interjected, ignoring her desperate pleas to speak.

"Dean is going to take a semester off school. He can go back later if he wishes; we're not going to deprive him of the choice. You are both going to live here and Dean is going to work, while you learn to be a Housewife.

Eventually you will be able to afford a Town House where you will live, and then when the time is ready Dean will decide himself what he wishes to do. He's a man; he can decide then what is more important to him." There was absolutely no leeway for negotiation, and compromise was out of the question.

I'd really messed up; I'd have to live with my _parents_, I'd have to _lie_ to Dean – of course I hoped he wouldn't go back to college – and I'd have to slowly take his dreams away from him. I didn't want to be a Housewife, but there was nothing else I'd be good at. I wanted Dean and me to start a family, but not this way. Not with them watching over our every move. I couldn't go back to college; I couldn't leave Dean there either; so I had to sacrifice his hopes and dreams if we had any chance of a lasting marriage. I was beginning to sound like my mother, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. I nodded reluctantly in response to my parents, and then started to think about how on earth I was going to explain it all to Dean.

**Did you like it? Please Review this chapter as it only takes a second PLUS the more reviews I get, the quicker I tend to update. Fact. It just motivates me to write knowing what people think of my work. Look forward to reading your comments. VD 1991**. **Over and out. **


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: These characters and this story belong to the writers of 'Gilmore Girls'.

_Hi, there! I know it's been forever but here you are. Enjoy... This chapter is dedicated to ForeverBlonde and StarsHollow4Ever. _

Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 14

Dean was surprisingly supportive about my situation. It was a relief, of course, but I knew I deserved no compassion for what I was making him do. I was screwing up his life; I was messing up the plan. I had absolutely no idea why he'd been so understanding, but I didn't dare question it.

Maybe he hated college too, but wanted to continue for me? That would be too much of a coincidence, I was sure. I hated that he was doing this for me; he was too selfless, whilst I was too selfish.

I just couldn't bear to go back to school; I couldn't go back to the sheer humiliation of slowly failing my classes one by one. I could imagine all the teachers trying to be all sympathetic and helpful but really all they'd be thinking of would be my replacement. I'd mean nothing more than a seat, a place, a number to these people. They wanted their precious university to have the best pupils, to get the best grades and to uphold their reputation of excellence, and unfortunately I fell into none of these categories.

We'd said our goodbyes to Erica and David – sooner than we'd originally planned – and it surprised me how emotional I got. Erica of course publicly stated the fact that I was making the biggest mistake of my life, but I tried not to let her bother me. I could only hope that she was wrong. Naturally, David made it all into a big joke saying that we'd miss them too much and come back within a week, but Dean needed that. He needed to think he'd be coming back. Erica and David had been great roommates and I told them we'd try to remain friends; if they were just saying this to be polite I didn't know, but it was nice to hear.

At the end of our meeting, it pained me to watch them say, "See you next semester,", rather than a plain old goodbye, because I knew we weren't coming back. We'd probably see them again, yes, but we'd never be roommates again. That part of our lives was over; but unfortunately, Dean didn't know yet. As long as he thought this was all temporary, it would be easier for both of us.

We were now moved into my parents' house; it felt weird being back already. I felt like I'd failed. I hated being home with them, but I had no choice. I was now sitting with Dean in our new bedroom. It was our previous spare room we'd never used, and my parents had helped us pick out some paint colours to decorate it to our taste. Dean wasn't particularly great at this, but together we'd chosen 'Soft Almond' with 'Warm Lilac' as a feature wall. It was very classic and vintage-looking, and yesterday we'd picked out a new bed, a couch and a dresser to make the room our own. Unfortunately it didn't feel our own. No amount of colour or furniture could change that. It would always be my parent's room in my parent's house. The whole house felt foreign to us, even if I had lived in it my whole life. I had no siblings but lots of cats, but as much as I adored them, Dean couldn't be in the same room as one of them; this was particularly difficult as there were four of them in one small house. Yvonne the ginger feline waltzed into the room and jumped onto our four poster bed, desperate for affection. Dean quickly jumped up and backed into the corner of the room.

"_Dean_! She won't hurt you, I promise," I assured him, but his panic-stricken look didn't falter.

I laughed at him.

"Lindsay, this cat is going to pounce at me any minute; get her out of here!"

"She has a _name_,"

"Fine. Yettie is going to pounce on me,"

"Yettie?"

"Don't you mean _Yvonne_?" I giggled. He was no good with names.

"_I_ don't know!"

Before Yvonne could pounce, the doorbell rang. He quickly dodged Yvonne and leaped out of the room to answer the door. Seconds later I heard laughing and giggling. Was it _her_?

I ran down the stairs, ruffling my hair on the way and checking my reflection in the mirror. I perfected my best _He's mine now, back off_ stare and carried on down the hallway. Why should I be worried? I had my wedding ring to prove we were solid.

As I turned the corner, my chest tightened. It wasn't Rory; it was worse. Dean's annoying little thirteen year old Sister Clara stood comfortably, leaning on the frame of the door, staring at me. She looked so innocent, so loving, her glossy black hair falling perfectly on her shoulders, her cheeks so rosy, her smile so darling. None of it was real.

Clara had made it quite clear to everyone that she hated me, but I always kept up the act that I liked her whilst Dean was around. He had no idea. I quickly broke into a forced smile and went up to join them, grabbing Dean's hand when I got there.

"Clara! How nice to see you, how are you?"

"Fine, why, do I look funny or something?" One of her little digs at me.

"No, I was just being polite." I'd ask what was her problem if I thought it would do any good. I was Dean's wife, but he would always put his little sister first. She would always win, and Clara knew that as well as I did.

"Well, I just came over to give you some stuff you left at home," I peered inside the large cardboard box she was so protectively holding. It contained an old yellow toothbrush, a broken comb, a tatty teddy bear, a holey t-shirt, some old fashioned slippers and some old photos. Yeah, bet he really _missed _those.

"Clara, would you like to come in?" Dean asked, politely. Such a gentleman. It was a blessing and a curse.

"Yeah, sure," She replied, not looking at me. From time to time Clara impulsively decided to ignore me completely, not looking at me or responding to anything I said. Of course Dean never noticed. How could his darling little sister do anything to hurt anyone? That little brat had him wrapped around her little finger.

I begrudgingly welcomed her in; narrowing my eyes at her once Dean's back was turned. Now that I knew she saw. If Clara were any younger she'd squeal to Dean about _that mean Lindsay_, but Clara was much smarter than that. Clara strode into the living room, her shoes still on (she knew I hated this) and her false smile still intact. She sat down on the sofa and plonked the cardboard box on the fluffy white rug, before beckoning Dean to join her and starting a conversation. They then began chatting, as if they were not at all aware of my presence, and although it bugged me I tried to be mature about the situation. I sat on the armchair and flicked through a nearby magazine. Seconds later, I noticed Clara reaching into the box, pulling out one of the photos and showing it to Dean. Unfortunately I wasn't in the right angle to see it.

"I found this." She said, with added enthusiasm.

As Dean looked at it, his brows raised in shock. He stared at it for what seemed like forever and then averted his gaze, warily. He shot a quick glance my way and then took the photo from Clara, chucking it into the box as if it was dynamite. It pained me not knowing what the photo was of. Was it a beloved pet? A relative? A memory? A mistake? Clara had purposefully only showed it Dean, knowing full well that it would drive me insane until I knew what it was of; who it was of. He walked out of the room, avoiding us both, leaving Clara alone with me, a smug smile playing on her wicked lips. In that moment, I knew for sure that my supposed sister in law was hell bent on breaking up our marriage, whatever it took.

**Please, Please Review! I promise that I'll update quicker if I get more reviews for this story! VD 1991 **


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: These characters and this story belong to the writers of 'Gilmore Girls'. Always.

_Hi guys. I just want to take this oportunity to say thank you SO SO much for the incredible response to my last chapter - I can't tell you how happy I was! I updated quicker because of YOU. _

_Anyway, I dedicate this chapter to all of my loyal reviewers, especially ForeverBlonde and Summer 2391, but also 'Ravenclaw smarties' who only reviewed recently but was very very nice. Thanks guys.  
_

Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 15

I had to know what Clara had shown him; I just had to. I quickly stood up and ushered Clara out of the room, although she didn't move an inch. She had obviously upset Dean so I didn't want her in my house anymore; she had long outstayed her welcome here.

"Clara, I think you should leave now. Your mom's probably wondering where you are." I said, curtly.

"No, she asked me to come. To drop off Dean's things," Her smug smile didn't budge. She was such a witch.

"What, that load of junk?" I pointed to the box. Clara'd use any excuse to get over here and cause tension between us. I just wanted her to stop lying.

"That load of junk is Dean's possessions. I think he'd be _very_ upset if he knew you'd said that. Maybe I'll tell him …" She trailed off. What was this, _eighth grade_? Well, for Clara yeah it was.

"Clara. Go home and stop being so immature." I replied, coldly.

"Let him go and I will," Was that a threat?

"Excuse me?" I hissed. Who was she to threaten me?

"Clara, your mom is a phone call away from grounding you. _Get out_." I warned, pointing the way out.

"Right. You think she'd believe you over me?" Clara cackled, heartlessly.

"I'm telling you to leave, Clara," I retorted, but that was all I could say. I had no more dirt on her; she totally had the upper hand.

"Lindsay, we all know you're not good enough for Dean. I know it, my parents know it, Dean knows it, and _you_ know it too. Not only that but we all know that you are messing up his life piece by piece. You started by making him commit to this ridiculous marriage, then you made him "postpone" college, and now you're making him work his socks off to pay for your Barbie Dream-house!"

"Now stop right there –" I protested, sharply, my eyes popping out of their sockets in disbelief and rage.

"Lindsay, you've got to leave him. For his sake you have to leave him." I detected a small flicker of compassion in her eyes, but chose not to believe it.

"What makes you think I'll do that?" I shot back.

"Because if you don't," She paused for dramatic effect.

"I sure as hell will make sure that it happens anyway. It's up to you how it happens; I just wanted to give you an easy way out. Doesn't make any difference to me," Clara shrugged.

"What's your problem, Clara? Why do you hate me so much go through all this? I mean, there obviously has to be some ulterior motive, so I'm guessing it's me. It's not just Dean you're doing this for, is it?" I whispered, patronisingly, literally and metaphorically stooping to her level.

Clara thought carefully about her answer.

"I'd have to do a lot worse things to become as selfish as you, Lindsay," Clara spat before slowly walking out the door. Clara muttered a clever remark on her way out which I could only presume to be "Don't forget the photograph."

I quickly shut the door and creeped over to the living room once again. I didn't quite know why I was creeping, I mean I had just had a spitting contest with Dean's little sister so I knew he couldn't hear us from wherever he was but somehow in my head I knew I should be creeping. I was snooping at one of Dean's photographs – one I was pretty sure he wouldn't want me to see. I mean, it couldn't' have been _that_ bad – he did leave it in the room before he left, didn't he? But why did he leave in such fury? But then again, what was the worst that it could be? I stopped arguing with myself and sneaked over to the cardboard box. I stuck my hand in and began rooting around for the photograph, coming across all of the junk that Clara had thrown in there for effect.

I took my hand out and peered inside again. There was still the old yellow toothbrush, the broken comb, the tatty teddy bear, the holey t-shirt and the old fashioned slippers, but when I took a closer look underneath the paintings, I found that they were hiding stacks upon stacks of files all labelled and organised to perfection.

In between two of the files, I noticed a glimmer of colour. It was the supposed photograph. I pulled it out and before I could even bring it any nearer to study it closely, I saw what it was, who it was. I had exactly the same reaction as Dean had not five minutes ago. My eyes bulged, my eyebrows raised, my mouth hung open and I found it hard to breathe. I now completely understood why Clara had brought this here today.

It was a beautiful photograph of Dean, Clara and Rory a few years back. Clara had the same mousy brown hair but it was in a messy mid length bob rather than poker straight with perfect layers. She'd got the same adorable face but without the heavy makeup. Dean looked exactly the same, except that I could see a glimmering sparkle in his clear blue eyes that I'd never seen before. And Rory; well. She looked absolutely beautiful. She was wearing a vintage blue dress I could only dream of pulling off and her long brunette hair was flowing carelessly down her shoulders where Dean held her close to him. The background was the Forresters' back yard at Dean's 18th birthday party – a memory I could never have or be part of – and I could only wish now that it had been me sat with him and his sister, looking so happy and carefree. I'd never have the same relationship with Clara that Rory did. Clara would never love me, look up to me, hope that Dean and I would stay together forever. She'd always resent me, resent our marriage, and do anything in her power to break us up. If she ever gave up, she'd only spend more years silently hating me, and that deeply saddened me.

My ears then vibrated with the loud beep of my mobile phone signalling that I had a new message. Was it Dean? It flashed an unknown number and I sighed. It had to be Clara. We never did get around to exchanging numbers. I clicked on the tiny little envelope and had my suspicions proved. It only took me a mere glance at the phone screen to destroy any self esteem I thought I had. The phone slid from my slender fingers to the hard wooden floor and I then joined it, crawling into a ball around the pool of tears that surrounded my body.

Clara would go to any lengths to get what she wanted. I glanced back at the flashing screen.

_**They'll kiss and make up eventually – you were always the second choice. Why not save yourself the humiliation? End this, Lindsay. Or I will.**_

I wasn't that naïve. I'd known _that_ all along – Rory _had_ always been his first choice, but It just really hurt to see it displayed so visually. Rory would always be the girl he was never good enough for, and I was the one he had no choice but to settle for. But what really struck me was the first part – _would they get back together?_ I held my stomach in as the panic attacks began again.

**Did you guess correctly about the photo? Let me know in your review. I give you permission to be very smug about it too. Please review. I promise I'll update quicker if you do... **

**By the way, I actually watched the final episode of GG today as it came to the end of another rerun of the entire series. Its about the fifth cycle I've done but it's still sad :(**


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: These characters and this story belong to the writers of 'Gilmore Girls'.

_**Hi, guys. This one's dedicated to Miguel51, and also to Ravenclaw smarties who kind of asked for a scenario like this in my story. It is loosely based on one of the scenes from GG but I think its what you had in mind. Hope you like it!  
**_

Chapter 16

It was another early morning. Well, in my opinion it was. To Dean, this time would probably appear a luxury.

I rolled over, dreamily, and felt for the being that was supposed to be on the other side of the bed, whilst opening my mouth in a great big yawn. I felt crisp cotton sheets but nothing else. _Where was he?_ I opened my eyes and frowned. Gazing over to the clock, I saw that it was 6.35. _How could anybody be up at this time?_

I thought again. _Oh, yeah, it's Dean_. It would be unnatural for him to be asleep at this time.

Even in that small college window of time we had together, he would always rouse at 6am sharp due to the habit of going to work early at Doose's; the tedious job he'd had for two years. He never even needed an alarm clock; it was just his very annoying body clock that had adjusted to suit his job. The one he didn't even have anymore! And then when he _did_ get up at that unearthly hour, he'd wake me up too! That can't have been a pretty sight. And _then_, after he'd successfully woken the both of us up, he had no idea what to do with himself. He'd try to read the newspaper, or try to read a novel, or try to study even, but he never felt fully occupied. He'd be unable to go back to sleep but he had nothing to pass the time. I hated this habit of his, but I knew that when I married him, it was part of the contract; part of the deal. Anyway, the point was he wasn't here.

_Dean must have gone to work early. He'll be at the Dragonfly._ Dean had recently taken up a job working for Lorelai, – _her_ mother – her business partner Sookie and their staff member Michel, whilst they revamped the inn they were going to open up in a few months. I wasn't quite sure how I felt about the job. I mean, _she_ would be at Yale so it was unlikely that he or I would ever see _her_ but it was definitely weird. Dean was really close with Lorelai whilst her daughter was dating him, and I could guess that it would be very awkward them working so closely together, after everything. But the thing was, we needed the money. From what I heard Lorelai paid well, and so if Dean and I were ever going to be able to afford a town house and start a life together, we had to make use of any opportunities we were given. I decided to get up, get dressed and see him at work.

I quickly got dressed into a crisp white ruffled shirt, jeans and a beautiful blazer that had a fabulous fit. I felt like a wife; Dean's wife, no matter what Clara thought on that matter. She was thirteen; she had absolutely no insight into boys or dating or marriage or real life. Her days were probably spent applying makeup, gossiping and watching unrealistic teenage American TV shows anyway. She'd eventually get bored with taunting me and move on but nevertheless I was determined enough not to let her bother me in the mean time.

Dean hadn't brought up the subject of the photograph and so I was going to avoid it also. There'd be no need for an argument; that was Clara's intention entirely. I put Clara to the back of my mind and concentrated on what shoes to wear. Were trainers too … scruffy?

Or did I need some patent heels to complete my wife-like look? _Why were these previously trivial things becoming so complicated?_ For instance; I was signing a form at the bank last week, and I had to ask for another one because I'd signed the other one as Miss Lindsay Lister rather than Mrs Lindsay Forrester. It was such a hassle. And also, I met up with an old school friend called Kevin recently who I hadn't seen for three years, and he ended up confessing his embarrassing crush on me from all that time ago. He then asked me out, not noticing the ring, and I – being me – agreed. It was only about two minutes after he left that I started frantically running after him to tell him I was married. _Was that normal?_ Probably not. I tried to forget that frightful incident and never let it happen again. I let my guard down with Kevin, I was so glad to see him at the time, but I didn't realise that he asked to meet up with me for a reason. Silly Lindsay.

Anyway I decided on my pair of soft leather boots – the ones I'd swooned over at the shopping mall and then successfully convinced my dad (over about 3 weeks) to buy them me for my 17th birthday.

They were classy but youthful – a great equilibrium. I quickly brushed my teeth, not bothering with time consuming tasks such as breakfast, styled my hair and slapped on some makeup – hoping for the best.

Running down the stairs I decided I'd need a reason to be there – at the Dragonfly – rather than just showing up – he might see it as a little sad, or worse, be angry and ask me to get it over with. I never knew which way he was going to go these days. It didn't take me long to think of one as it had been on my mind for a while now. I hastily grabbed my bag, headed out and quietly shut the door on my way out, wary of my parents who were very light sleepers.

The Dragonfly Inn was quite a far walk from our house, but this time of day Stars Hollow was at its quietest, which meant very little traffic. It was a gorgeous sunny day, and the walk was doing me a world of good.

Stars Hollow was such a beautiful, charming town, but nobody really noticed it during the day. Their lives were so busy, filled with work, family and endless traditional events. The town was very big on history and tradition and if the tiny infuriating Town Selectman Taylor Doose had anything to with it, Stars Hollow would stay exactly the same for the next hundred years. But then, who would be the next Town Selectman? _Kirk?_ I shuddered at thought. A few minutes later, I finally crossed the road to be blessed with the sight of the gorgeous Dragonfly Inn. Its beauty was magnified in this light, as the glorious clear sky complimented its every feature. It was even more picturesque than ever. It was clearly half finished, the walls stripped and the foundations crumbling, but even as a work in progress it was magnificent. I quickly treaded the creaky steps of the porch and saw the three bosses standing at the door.

"Hi everybody," I greeted. Lorelai and Sookie beamed at me and greeted back.

"Hi Michel," For some reason I loved Michel. His French accent was adorable and even though most people he hated and they soon returned the feeling, for some reason he'd taken to me. He'd never insulted me and apparently that really meant something.

"Hi-_ee_ Lind-_zee_," Michel replied, smiling back. I noticed that he rolled back on his feet, nervously. {_as you can tell, I've written Michel's dialogue kind of phonetically, to make it more fun. Tell me in your review if it becomes annoying as I can change it back to normal if everyone hates it. Let me know as he's in the next chapter too_}

"Are you ok? You're standing kind of funny," I pointed out. His face turned in embarrassment.

"Erm, I'm not stand-_eeng_ funn-_ee_. Th_ee_s is how you sta-nd _ee_n th_ee_-se pants," He replied. I devoured every syllable. It was a guilty pleasure of mine. I grinned again and turned around to find Dean.

I heard one of the horses whimper from the stables out back, its whiny rippling my eardrums.

It didn't take long to find Dean. He was the abnormally tall one.

"Car keys please, I thought I'd head out into Hartford for the day," I smiled, coyly.

"You got it," He returned the smile, and passed them me after searching his pockets.

"But isn't it a bit early for you?" He asked.

"To what?"

"Be awake?" He laughed. He found it incredibly hilarious that I actually liked sleeping.

"Yeah, but I've got some stuff to do today so I thought I'd crack on with it."

"What stuff?" He pressed.

"Oh, just stuff. So what have you got planned today?"

"All sorts. Tom has got a never-ending to-do list for me, starting with that wall." He gestured towards the library where the wall was in pieces.

"Well, don't work yourself too hard." I warned.

"I won't," He chimed, responding as a child would to a teacher. He was mocking me.

"Don't mock me Dean Forrester. I am merely looking out for you. It's what wives do." I pointed out, in my most sophisticated wife-like tone. My mother was rubbing off on me, and I wasn't sure whether to be pleased or furious about it.

He smiled at me again and we stood like that for a while until Dean's face changed, as if reality had hit him.

"Right then, I'd better get to work," He concluded, his mind wandering off onto other subjects.

"I'll see you tonight." I drew him in for a quick kiss and left him to it, waving to Lorelai, Sookie and Michel on my way out.

"Uh, Lind-_zee_?" Michel called, after running after me down the path. I chuckled to myself.

"Yes, Michel?"

"I was wonde-r-_ee_ng, are you bus-_ee_ today?" He asked, clearly embarrassed at the situation.

"Yeah, kind of. I'm heading into Hartford for the day,"

"Sh_u_-pp_ee_ing?" He asked, his eyes lighting up.

"Yeah,"

"Well, Hart-ford _ee_sn't Par-_ee_s, but _ee_t'll do. I'll grab my-_ee_ coat," He concluded, running back up the path and into the Dragonfly Inn for a split second before returning with his camp military coat and man bag at hand.

"Red-_ee_?"

"Sure."

It surprised me that this morning I hadn't a clue what I was doing for the day, and now I was shopping with Michel. _Weird_.

_**You like? Please review. Plus if you have any cool suggestions I could include in my story like this one, include them in your review as they are always muchly appreciated! **_


	17. Chapter 17

_**I know, I KNOW it's been ages since I updated but I've been really busy and I am actually SNOWED in. Not even joking. All the schools are closed, the roads are death traps and food supplies are running low. Scary stuff. Anyway, here's Chapter 17, I hope you like it... This one's for Forever Blonde who is also snowed in and has spent the day snowballing with her brother, trekking down to the co-op and emailing her very bored best friend. **_

Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 17

Shopping with Michel was extremely weird. We were now trailing the Hartford shopping mall, in search of meaningless items neither of us needed. Or at least that's what he thought we were doing. I, on the other hand, was wondering whether or not to dare do the task I came here to do. I no longer had the safety of being alone to complete this task and it would be very embarrassing to do it now, but after all we were here and I was sure the store was just around the corner from where I was standing. Either way, it was frustrating me as this wasn't supposed to be a big deal. It wasn't as if I could afford even one of the items Michel had suggested for me, so I was beginning to wonder if I'd embarked on a pointless shopping trip. Don't get me wrong, I loved shopping. I adored it, but not this type of shopping. I'd tried on several expensive dresses basically to shut Michel up, but this only made me feel worse, knowing that they fit me perfectly, and would be a great addition to my lacking wardrobe. I then had to make up some dumb excuse as to why I couldn't get it. This was particularly difficult when Michel put his foot down and was unnecessarily stubborn. Due to his perseverance and downright pushiness, I almost ended up buying a $500 waistcoat _because it was an absolute necessity to have in my winter wardrobe_. It took me a whole hour, three cups of black coffee and a threat to make him back off. (The threat being I would vandalise his Italian leather bag – now _that _was an absolute necessity)

It was now half one, and I needed to eat already. Michel wasn't big on lunch, so I hadn't eaten anything except a sugared donut I scoffed whilst he was browsing the home ware section of Macy's. This was partially because I was savagely hungry, but also because he wouldn't let me eat and I didn't want him to catch me. I'd had several opportunities to eat when we stopped for coffee breaks, but he actually used his force on me to make me think otherwise. That diet plan he had sure was strict – No carbs, no sugar, no fat, no nothing. Michel's diet was basically made up of water and lettuce, which is about 80% water anyway. So, anyway, he thought this diet plan was working for him, and he thought that I should follow it too. I thought that if I made up an excuse to separate from him I'd get the ten minute window I needed to complete the task, and then find something to eat.

"Lind-zee, what you think?" Michel had picked up a tweed jacket and was strutting around in it, as if he were a male model. I nodded, enthusiastically and then rubbed my forehead to soothe my headache. His accent was truly annoying me. It was no longer adorable but now very irritating and also very loud. It was no longer a proper French accent but a mixture of French and American, which wasn't a particularly favourable combination anyway.

"Michel, do you mind if I nip to the ATM? I'm out of cash." I lied.

"Uh, no, that's fine." He took the jacket off and started to walk with me.

"What are you doing?" I asked, worriedly.

"I'm com-_ee_-ng with you."

"But you _can't_!"

"Why-_ee_ noht?"

"Because I'm also going to buy you a Christmas present. I've seen this perfect thing and I really want it to buy it for you! And it has to be today, too. I'm scared they'll sell out!"

Michel quickly broke out into an excited, juvenile grin, while his eyes turned huge and bug-like.

"Is it gym equipment? Is it a leather wallet? Is it a pair of loafers? Is it _Chanel_?" He babbled.

"It has to be a surprise." I replied, hiding the pressing guilt I felt.

"Fine. You go. Meet me _ee_n here when you're done." He grinned again and skipped merrily into the home wear section of Macy's where we were.

Once his back was turned I swiftly exited the store and paced along the marble walkway, avoiding the casual shoppers who took their time strolling along, the big groups, and the careless mothers that let their spirited children run across public paths. I had no time for them. I soon got to the store I wanted and walked in, my cheeks quickly turning red with embarrassment. It was one of those Lingerie Stores. You know; the ones with the fancy underwear and all the sexy costumes. The ones that are stereotypically full of male perverts and slutty women. I was hardly the average customer. As I got deeper and deeper into the store, my heart beat quickened in disbelief. There was so much lace, so many frills, it was overwhelming. I hadn't the slightest clue as to what I was looking for either. This was partially because I had no idea how I'd got here. It had been on my mind for a while, but I never thought I'd actually have the courage to get up and go. I'd got the idea to come here whilst we were at college, because I felt as if Dean and I were falling apart, but I'd never had the confidence to just walk in. I'd thought about ordering something online, but I'd run the risk of my parents seeing the package when it got delivered. That would just be …. I banished the thought. Anyway, I'd never been to this sort of shop before, and it turned out it wasn't meant for people like me. I quickly looked around, nervously and grabbed something off the hanger, checked it was my size and marched straight to the till.

I wasn't vaguely aware of what it was, I just wanted to complete the task and get out of here. As I handed over the item to the assistant, my whole body froze. I'd heard laughing. A cackle I'd heard in my nightmares. Clara.

The woman kept asking for payment, but it was only on the third time of asking that I handed over my credit card. Seconds later I found myself walking out the store in shame, staring at my feet – glancing up only for a second to check I wasn't hallucinating. As I turned the corner again I recollected the dark scene I'd just witnessed. The one of Clara sitting there on one of those central benches with her friends, smiling at me as if she'd seen something really funny, but also narrowing her eyes like a cold-hearted viper about to catch its prey.

Suddenly, I wasn't so hungry. My phone bleeped as I approached Macy's again.

**_Pathetic and Desperate. Carry on, wifey. You're making my job that much easier. Your days are numbered._**

I stopped, turned around, considered confronting Clara about the little game she was playing, and then turned back around again, realising _what good would it do?_

_**Please review, people. Make my day. :O)**_


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: These characters and this story belong to the writers of 'Gilmore Girls'.

_**Hey guys! How are you? Well, here you go, it's the next installment. It's dedicated to ForeverBlonde, Miguel51 and also everyone else who reviewed the last chapter! Thank you so so much for your fab comments - you certainly did cheer me up on my snow day :)**_

Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 18

It was five o'clock before we arrived back at Stars Hollow. I was absolutely shopped out and could not even walk in a straight line I was that tired. After I'd got back from the my task, not only did I become starving as I'd somehow managed to skip food altogether with the help of "my new dietician", but I also had to face a gleeful Michel who pestered me all day for me to give hints as to what his incredibly amazing Christmas present was. At one point I did snap at him and so he went all quiet for a few hours, but he eventually turned the volume up and carried on the ridiculous idea that we were the best of friends. The things he talked about though, it was all shoes and clothes and fashion with him. (I had no idea there were so many types of shirts)

It was difficult keeping up the charade. I'd even had to buy 'Michel's gift' and guard it protectively for the rest of the day.

"Bye-ee Lind-zee!" He exclaimed as I dropped him off at his little bungalow on the edge of town.

"Bye Michel" I replied, matching his almost-patronising-but-not-quite tone.

He hopped out of the car and waved as I drove past, not noticing the relief I felt whilst I did so.

I let myself into the house and dropped my keys into the bowl at the side of the door as I usually did.

"Where have you been?" My mother demanded, appearing out of nowhere.

"I've been shopping with Michel all day, didn't Dean tell you? I called him on the way there to tell him where I was going, and then I talked to him about twenty minutes ago to tell him I was running late."

"I know where you've been but _what were you thinking?_"

"That I wanted to get some space?" I mumbled.

"_Space_?" She cried, not believing what she'd heard.

"Yeah, I needed a change of scenery; I was fed up of sitting home all day."

"This is just not acceptable, Lindsay. I thought better of you than to do something like this."

"I'm going to be _twenty_ soon – I don't need your permission to go out anymore!" I retorted, knowing that she hated how independent I was. Of course I was completely independent at college, but my mother never actually witnessed it. She was probably in denial.

"Lindsay, you're a wife now! You can't just go out gallivanting around town whenever you feel like it! You should have come home and helped me make dinner. _That's what we do_."

"_That's what we do?_ So you're saying that when you become a wife your life ends? Is that it? No social life at all?"

"No, I'm just saying …."

"Can we have hobbies? _Us wives_. Are we allowed an opinion? _Can we even vote_?" I exaggerated.

"Lindsay, stop being ridiculous! I'm just saying that under _my_ roof you're going to play by my rules."

"_Under your roof_, now is it?" I repeated, drawing out the words.

"You know that's not what I mean." She stuttered, desperately trying to rectify what she'd just said.

"Then what _do_ you mean? Because, at the moment, you make marriage sound like slavery and living here sound like boarding school."

The awkward silence said it all. She kept opening her mouth but no words came out.

I turned around, only glancing at her stunned face for a moment, and walked away. "So much for support." I muttered on my way out. I wasn't sure if she heard. As I walked past the phone on my way upstairs a note caught my eye.

Erica Pearson called for Lindsay. Ring back ASAP.

I was so glad that somebody cared about me, because it sure wasn't my parents. Most folks' would be pleased that I was getting out, enjoying myself and doing fun things that normal young people did. They were such a disappointment sometimes. Actually, no – They were a disappointment full stop. What was I going to do with them? I picked up the phone and dialled her mobile. She quickly picked up.

"He-llo?" Erica chimed, as she always did, putting a smile back on my face immediately.

"Hey Erica, it's Lindsay. How are you?"

"Hey Linds, I'm good, but kind of in a rush. Mr Hartley's running a late night class tonight on Classical Civilisation and I'm mega late. Can I call you back when I've got more time?" She sighed, clearly rushing about the disorganised apartment. I could practically see the messy living room beside itself with disgust.

"Oh. Yeah that's fine." I replied, my disappointment obvious.

"Oh, what's two minutes?" She gave in and sighed. I laughed at how easy she was. Nothing seemed to bother her. Not even the image of an angry Mr Hartley, which was not a pretty sight.

"Well, I was wondering what was so urgent that meant my dad had to write ASAP in large bold underlined letters on the message pad. Care to explain?"

"It was lunchtime and I was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch or something."

"This was urgent, _how_?" I giggled; glad to be back to the rhythm of a typical girl-to-girl conversation.

"I _really_ needed coffee!" She stressed, not even joking at the thought of caffeine withdrawal. That we shared.

"Fair enough. I've actually been out all day with Michel. _Man_, can that guy shop?"

"Michel, eh? Sounds French – am I right?" She teased.

"Yeah he is."

"Loves to shop?"

"Till he can move no more."

"And he's single?"

"I think so." I answered, unaware of where this endless game of 20 Questions was going.

"Dean should watch his back," She joked.

"_Erica_!"

We both burst out laughing. It was so great to be back to normal. Well, nothing really was normal anymore, but I was glad to know that not everything had changed. I needed Erica, more than she knew.

"A) I'm married B) He's literally twice my age. C) He is as intimidating as my mother sans coffee, and D) he so totally bats for the other side!"

Erica laughed again. I'd forgotten how witty I could be. It felt good.

"So, Linds, as much as I've loved our chat, I really do have to go!" There was a twinge of guilt in her tone, but I chose to ignore it.

"Yep. Me too."

"Hey, before I go, coffee on Wednesday? "

"I'd _love_ to!" I only wished afterwards I hadn't said it so enthusiastically. I didn't want to sound desperate or pathetic, not at all. But I was still delighted that she'd asked; it was funny how Erica could turn my day around in a matter of seconds.

"Great. Well, the usual place at 3?" I knew exactly what she meant; we'd gone for coffee at the resident coffee house so many times it didn't even need mentioning anymore.

"Perfect. Bye, Erica!"

"Bye."

No matter how infuriating and frustrating and utterly clueless my parents were, I still had Erica.

_Never Say Never – The Fray _

I put the phone Back on the stand and walked up the stairs to Dean; _my_ Dean, who was laid flat out on our four poster bed. He looked exhausted. I slid onto the bed next to him and placed my arms around him, careful and wary of my sleeping husband who could wake at any moment. He slowly opened up his eyes and began to talk, but I placed my finger on his lips. I didn't need words right now; I needed him to care for me. Because someone had to. He closed his eyes again and held me tight, resting his head on mine. I hoped that we could stay this way forever; us both oblivious to the fact that this world wasn't real. But despite everything, all the issues, the resentments, the taunts aside, I loved him. He was my everything. And I was going to do everything in my power to make this marriage work. Neither Rory Gilmore nor Clara Forester were going to get in the way of what I wanted; I'd make sure of that.

**_Please review!_**


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: This storyline belongs to the writers of Gilmore Girls. I'm simply adding depth to it!

_It's Christmas! Anybody excited as I am? We've got the tree up, the house is filled with sparkly lights and it's got to the panic buying point at which everybody is frantically buying Christmas presents because they weren't as organised as they vowed they would be this year. Anybody been watching Elf? Or Love Actually? Or The Holiday? If not, do. You are missing out!  
_

_Thanks for all your continued support on this story everyone! And I just want to take this opportunity to mention that Miguel 51 has started writing a story on Clara Forrester about her college days. It's going to be Ah-Mazing. Read it! _

Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 19

For about five days now my mother had been giving me cooking lessons. Now that in itself is a testimony to my mother who claimed 'the ability to cook is invaluable. When you have a house of your own and children of your own, you're going to need the skill.", as I am no chef, so I figured I wouldn't be much of a cookery student.

As much as I really wanted to stay mad at my mother, I couldn't really, because it was a small house and my determination to freeze her out was most tiring as well as unsuccessful. As I knew all too well, when I got annoyed with my mother she usually forced me to give up eventually due to her persistent nagging, her constant whining and her enhancement of those annoying little traits that she knew drove me insane. Thinking again, it was basically blackmail. Anyway, rather than publicly ignoring her, I decided to give her a Free Pass, but have my ammunition ready for if and when it ever happened again. If she crossed the line, I would be ready for her.

So, back to the point, she was attempting to give me cooking lessons. Now, as I said before, I was no chef. I didn't know the first thing about being in a kitchen, except not to disturb my mother when the dish she was supposedly preparing looked nothing like it did in the recipe book. I learnt that the hard way. The first thing she taught me was that you have to wash your hands all the time, no matter how many times you have done this since you started. The second thing she taught me was to never get distracted whilst chopping something up because that hurts, and being thumbless doesn't sound so fun. And the list went on and on and on until I eventually got so bored that I had to leave, much to her disapproval. But after all the dull safety procedures were carried out, I found that it wasn't so bad. I got to make Pasta dishes, Rice dishes, Chicken Dishes, Cakes, Buns, Desserts, all sorts.

It made me wonder why my mother had never done this before now. Were her values so old fashioned that she thought only wives could cook, for their families? Come to think of it, throughout my time at home I had never once had to make a meal or prepare anything. It had all been done for me. It wasn't until I started college that I had to make things for myself, but Dean or Erica usually helped out with that anyway, so the thought had never occurred to me. It came as a shock, but I was learning now so it was better late than never in this particular case. But as well as it had been going previously, yesterday things took a turn for the worse. My mother had gone out for the day so I decided to make something on my own. Well, let's just say my Peanut Butter cookies were crunchier than intended and I only realised this after I'd happily handed them out to all of the workers at the Dragonfly inn. Oops. So today I asked for my mother's assistance and made a simple lasagne with salad, finishing off with freshly baked muffins; I was sure they would go down a treat this time, if they trusted me that is. It was my idea to start making things for the staff at the Dragonfly inn. I'd get great feedback, have an excuse to cook and I'd get to see Dean more often too. What I didn't mention to Dean was the fact that I was also checking up on him. Of course, I trusted my husband – there was no doubt about that – but suddenly the idea of Lorelai and Dean working together didn't sound so great. What if she was trying to get _them_ back together somehow? Could she be _her_ messenger? Was she feeding him lies about me? And then of course there was _her_.

How did _I_ know that _she _wasn't making surprise appearances at the Dragonfly every waking minute just to see him? She could be doing anything to him and I would have no idea; I wouldn't put it past her. I knew I was being paranoid, in every sense of the word, but as much as I tried to concentrate on the town house and the space and the great life we were going to have together, she was just this niggling little thing in the back of my mind that wouldn't go away. _Rory Gilmore_. I had to make sure that Dean stayed as far away from her as possible, which was tricky since the common location for them would be the Dragonfly. At the end of the day, trust aside, I had to be there as often as I could, so going to deliver food was as good an excuse as any.

I started walking towards the Dragonfly following my Mother, holding the basket that contained the goods and wearing a smile that said 'I love you' – to be directed at Dean, obviously. Just before I did, I felt a twang of guilt because he'd been really great recently and I had nothing to back up the fact that I needed to be worried about him with _her_. I reminded myself that I trusted Dean with my life; it was _her_ I didn't trust. I walked in, ready to drop the basket and flung my arms around him, romantically, like in all the movies, to see them. Together. Laughing. My heart stopped dead in my body. My arms went limp. My legs turned to jelly. I just couldn't stop staring at the picture that was unfolding before me. I'd been right to question her. She was undressing for him with her eyes. _That slutty Gilmore_. She strings along this great guy, all the while she's seeing someone else, then rightly dumps him, then finds she made a huge mistake and now comes back to claim what she thinks is rightfully hers. _Idiot._

"Hi Rory," I greeted, sarcastically. I didn't care what she read into it.

"Hi Lindsay." She replied, matching my tight lipped smile.

Noticing how she looked at me, sympathetically, I dropped the basket, smiled at Dean and pulled him in for a rather long kiss, right in front of _her_ nose. She could pull all the faces she wanted, Dean would still have that ring on his finger to prove that he was mine. I saw her slightly grimace, showing her disgust.

"Are we early?" My mom interrupted.

"No, not at all." Dean replied, sneaking a quick glance at _her_, who looked very uncomfortable at this point.

"Mom and I wanted to get a nice jump on things today." Lucky for Rory I hadn't missed her visit.

"Did Lindsay tell you we found a new drycleaner?" She interjected, neurotically. It was normal for her to raise an entirely irrelevant topic or event and make it sound like an episode of gossip girl.

"No,"

"_Tell_ him, Lindsay!" She prompted, putting me on the spot.

"They use less solvent, so it's cleaner," I explained, glancing back at Rory who was in no way part of the group.

"I'm really into the environment." I smiled, narrowing my eyes.

"Oh, me too." She replied, with zero enthusiasm. I was glad it was clear that we both had mutual feelings towards each other.

"So, are you working here?" I asked, casually, trailing off the question.

"No, that was illegal hammering. Completely nonunion. Come the revolution, I shall be shot." She replied, humorously. I never was going to get her weird sense of humour. I shook it off and turned to my Mom.

"Hey, lets go get set up before everything gets cold," She beamed and I nodded, following her into the dining room where hungry builders were beginning to swarm. It was a good sign.

"_Lunch?_ This early?" Rory raised her eyebrows, turning to my Mom in need of explanation.

"Our Deano's up at 5!" Mom exclaimed, as if she was proud at having a son-in-law that possessed the ability to wake up at an unnatural and inconvenient time. What a skill. As for the name, she'd started calling Dean Deano recently after 'it came to her in a dream'. Don't even wonder how she comes up with these things; she's mental.

"Don't worry; Mom made lunch today, so it's safe to eat," I joked, laughing with Dean. He turned to Rory.

"Lindsay's mom is teaching her how to cook."

"It's hard." I stated, joining in the conversation. No way was I letting her have all his attention.

"Do you know how?" I turned the tables on her, knowing full well of the answer. Rory and Lorelai were the biggest junkies in town. Name a pizza or takeout combination and they will have had it on numerous occasions. Plus they never left Luke's, and their meal plan basically consisted of burgers and fries – Calories galore. They would definitely _not_ know how to cook.

"If you count radiator quesadillas." She cracked a joke but neither my mom nor I got the punch line. Must be a Gilmore thing. I noticed she was wearing a red rose on her jacket for some reason.

Must be a Gilmore thing, too.

"I should have started teaching you sooner. Don't make that mistake with _your_ little one!" Mom smiled at me, with a crazed look in her eyes. _What was she suggesting? _I just smiled and had a giggle with her, ignoring the fact that my mother seemed to think I was pregnant. I looked at Rory and she displayed an expression I'd never seen on her before – absolute horror. Well, I guess I didn't mind her thinking _that_ did I? She might back off if she thought I was carrying Dean's child! I glanced back to them, seeing Dean clearly denying the pregnancy with a defiant shake of his head. _What was that all about? Did he not want children; ever?_ Rory let out a sigh of relief and smiled again, like a Cheshire cat. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her smug little face looking at Dean longingly, her very being challenging my position as Dean's wife. If I thought I could speak, right here, right now, I know I'd say to Rory, "Game on, Gilmore." But I didn't; I couldn't, so I went back to my basket of food and started laying them all out neatly like a good little wife because that's what I was; for now, anyway.

**_Please Review! And Merry Christmas to all! :)_**


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls ... sob.

_Happy New Year! Hope everyone had a nice christmas and are really excited for 2011. I've got many New Years Resolutions but have already broken several. I just can't give up coffee. Anyway, heres the next installment. Hope you like it! Please Review!_

Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 20

It was Wednesday already; 3 o'clock to be exact, and I was standing outside the college coffee house with my glossy heels wedged on my shivering feet and my patterned dress, sticking to my wet body. The weather was really bad in Connecticut right now and the college kids seemed to be getting the worst of it.

I was really nervous to be seeing Erica again – it had been a while – but at the same time I really needed some feminine interaction. The only time I saw a normal nineteen year old girl was when I saw Rory – and I _hated_ Rory. Erica was the closest thing I had to a friend, since none of my others wanted anything to do with me since the wedding. They'd been invited of course, and most had shown their faces on the day, but none had contacted me afterwards. It was disheartening to know that putting a ring on my finger made people judge me; even the people I'd known for years, relied on heavily, trusted with my life, had now turned their backs on me. Maybe they weren't really friends after all. I'd kept telling myself they were busy, and that _that_ was why they'd never called, but deep now I knew they weren't that bothered about me anymore. More exciting things were now happening in their lives. In some ways I pitied them because they hadn't got someone like Dean in their lives; somebody they could always rely on, who would always be there for them, who loved them, but in other ways I envied them – their lives were uncertain, anything could happen, their lives would be totally different in ten years as mine probably would not. We'd have moved out by then, Dean and I, but I'd still be a wife, I'd still be married to Dean and I'd still have the same daily routine as now. There was no excitement or spontaneity in my life anymore. That I craved. Hopefully meeting Erica again would change that.

I stepped into the coffee house, and ran my fingers through my dripping hair, nervous of my appearance. Did I look too mature? _Snobby_? The heels probably _were_ a bit much. I spotted Erica instantly and walked over to join her.

"Lindsay? Lindsay, is that you?" Erica squinted her eyes, comically. I laughed with her and sat down opposite her, ordering a Skinny Latte and an Apple Bran Muffin from a passing waitress.

"Erica, it's so great to see you –" I began.

"Did you just order a Skinny Latte and an Apple Bran Muffin?" She quizzed; confusedly.

"Er, Yes," I mumbled.

"_Why?_"

"Because that's what I always get. Me and my Mom go to Starbucks all the time and order the same thing,"

"This isn't Starbucks," Erica replied. The waitress who'd taken my order was heading my direction again with a face that made it obvious it was taking everything for her not to laugh.

"Sorry, we don't have any Apple Bran Muffins. Is there anything else I could get you?"

"No thanks, just the Skinny Latte then."

"We don't do those either." She let a smile slip.

"_Skinny Cappuccino?_" I asked, my voice getting higher and higher by the second.

The waitress giggled and shook her head. Now that was just plain rude.

"I'll just have an Orange Juice." Did they even serve _that_? Service was really poor here, I decided. The waitress smirked at me childishly and scuttled off.

"Lindsay, you've been here before. They don't offer premium products like skinny lattes and apple bran muffins. It's a college coffee house, and college students are kind of broke, remember?"

"Oh; yes," I avoided her gaze, the distant memories flooding back to me.

"You'll have to get used to it, Lindsay; you're going to be a student again next semester. And that's not long away," Why did she have to say that? Why did she have to bring it all back?

Before I knew it, I heard myself saying, "No, I'm not."

"Sorry?" She looked up from her coffee. Erica had obviously not heard me. Good. I could reply, "Nothing," but then again, it would be nice to talk to someone other than my parents about it. A new perspective could be good for me. I knew Erica would hate me at first but eventually she'd come around and tell me what to do, right?

"I'm not going back to SCSU. I never was." I looked down at the table, just staring.

"You're not coming back?" She repeated, her disbelief literally staring me in the face.

"No." I mumbled.

"You selfish cow! I saved you your room for months despite having several offers for it! Lindsay, I paid more rent each month so that we could be roommates again! I've lost _money_! Did you not think about that?"

"But …." I stuttered, speechless.

"So, Dean was in on this too? I can't believe this!"

"No."

"_No_? When did you tell him? What did he say?"

"I haven't told him."

"_What_? He still thinks your both coming back?"

I nodded.

"Lindsay, what happened to you? You used to be the most honest, open, polite, trustworthy, fun-loving, care-free person I'd ever met, and now you're wearing high heels to a café, your hair's pinned back in curls, you're ordering Skinny Lattes, you call your mother 'Mom', you look at people as if they're below you, and you're lying to your husband! What is going on?"

That was the final straw. My eyes glazed over and the tears quickly came.

"I don't know; everything's just so messed up. I was going to tell him eventually, but then it got harder and harder to get the words out." My voice bubbled and I started taking sharp intakes of breath; it was actually quite embarrassing, especially in a public place. People were starting to look over at us like we were caged animals or something.

"So why didn't you talk to him about this before, when you were struggling with classes – I'm guessing that's why you're not coming back?"

"I wanted to, but he loved it so much at college and I didn't want to make him choose."

"Between what?" She exclaimed, not quite understanding the whole of my story.

"Between me and his education."

"What are you on about, Lindsay?"

"I'm just doing what my parents told me to do."

"Explain. Leave nothing out, Lindsay. I mean it." She gave me that look, the one she always gave when she wanted you to know that she wasn't going to be messed with. I never defied that look.

I took one last breath and gave a large sigh, ready to tell her everything. All about my breakdown, the huge secret I was keeping from Dean, and the taunting messages I was getting from his innocent little sister.

"That's terrible. Why is Clara doing this?"

"I don't know. I mean, she's made it quite clear she hates me and I can understand that but why go to so much trouble to get me out of the way? What did I ever do to her?"

"Tell me more about this Rory. How does she fit into the picture?"

"Well, she and Dean had a long term relationship a few years ago. I don't know a lot as Dean never mentions it but from what I've heard, it was intense. But it she mustn't have been that into it because she had eyes for another guy – Jess, his name was. Rory and Jess were having secret meetings behind Dean's back so there was obviously something going on that she wanted to hide from him."

Erica's eyes widened in disbelief, even though she had never met Rory. She was clearly enjoying the gossip. It was like a plot line in a drama that had her on the edge of her seat, hanging on my every word.

"Anyway, Dean finally confronted Rory about this and in the end she picked Jess. They were seen around town publicly making out within days. Dean was devastated."

"For some reason or another Jess took off one day, and Rory never saw him again. He was kind of unpredictable in that way – it was probably part of his charm. Ever since then she's been after my husband. She probably realises now what a mistake she made. So, er, yeah, I kind of hate her."

"What a home-wrecker! To ruin a marriage! So what exactly are you going to do about this?"

"Nothing. I mean, with Clara I just have to ignore it and with Rory I just have to try and keep her away from Dean."

"Doesn't he work with her Mother?" I was surprised at how much she'd picked up.

"Yeah, but I have my ways."

"Right. But, wait a minute. Back to the original drama - isn't Dean going to be really _really_ mad when he finds out about the whole quitting college saga that you inadvertently forgot to tell him about?"

"I'm dreading his reaction. We can nearly afford a town house, you see, and I just want to start building our new lives there. I don't want to move backwards when we so badly need to move forwards. I know he wants to go back to college and I love that he's so driven but I can't go back there and I know that if he does, we'll lead our own separate lives away from each other and we'll never have the same rhythm. This is the best thing for our marriage." I was so relieved to be able to defend my actions aloud to somebody, rather than just arguing with myself and ending up wallowing in my own self pity, with a rather large tub of ice cream in hand.

"You want my advice?" She asked, asking a very obvious question.

"_Please_!" Erica was most definitely my Fairy Godmother right now.

"Tell Dean about Clara, Tell Rory to find her own man, and tell Dean about college. He'll understand, you know he will. But tell him sooner rather than later, no matter how late you think it is right now."

I nodded, obediently. Erica was right this was so messed up, but my job now was to do what was right and be honest with Dean. I owed him that much. I wiped away the mascara that had slid half way down my face, picked myself up and headed out of the coffee shop. I smiled at Erica through the window, glad to have my friend back, and started walking down the street; still smiling. Not just because I had my friend back, not even because it had stopped raining, but because I knew what I had to do now, and who definitely needed their butts kicked for messing with me.


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls. Not at all. Not even one character. Sob.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed recently. Am in the middle of exams so that's why it's been so long between updates! Anyway, this is the famous supermarket scene in which Lindsay overhears Rory gossiping about her. Dramatic stuff, I tell you. Enjoy...

Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 21

By the time I'd walked back from the coffee shop, to my car and driven back to Stars Hollow, I was feeling better by the second. I'd talk to Dean tonight, explain everything, and then deal with Clara, and finally Rory.

I was looking forward to dealing with her the most, so I was leaving that till last. I wanted it to be as forceful and unpleasant as possible, and I would only be able to do that knowing that Dean and I were in a stable marriage and that I needn't be threatened by her pathetic existence. I mean, the only reason she was preying on my man was because she'd been dumped by a crappy guy, couldn't find anyone else that would take her, and knew that she and Dean had a history. And to think; Yale was a mighty big school. Plenty of worthy candidates. I almost felt sorry for her, until I remembered that she was destroying my world.

I parked my car in the driveway, but then realised that I should go to Doose's first to buy some ingredients for the magnificent meal I was going to cook for Dean tonight. I'd usher my parents out of the house for the night, serve him a delicious home cooked meal and finally when he could eat no more; I'd tell him _everything_.

My stomach turned in the thought, but it had to be done, and surely the gesture would soften the blow? How could he be angry at me when I'd spent hours slaving away in the kitchen preparing the perfect home-cooked meal for him? Either way, I was determined to give it a try. I walked into Doose's, my hair and clothes still soggy wet and my makeup highly embarrassing, my lip liner a shambles and my mascara halfway down my face. How was it that as soon as I got back from the rainy college grounds where Erica was, Stars Hollow was still as warm and pleasant as ever? The men were dressed in baggy T-shirts and shorts and the women were dressed in cute print sundresses and strappy wedges. I looked completely out of place. I started browsing the first aisle of soups, hoping for inspiration of a yummy appetizer that Dean would like – _How about Chicken and Lentil?_ was my thought process – but then my heart stopped dead in my body when I realised who was also here and more importantly, _who_ they were publicly talking about.

"I'm mad about Dean doing this but I'm more mad at _Lindsay_. She's so _selfish_!" It was that home-wrecking _Gilmore Girl_, gossiping about me and Dean. She was browsing another aisle so I couldn't see her whilst she was having her rant, but I was almost glad that she couldn't see me. This way she might admit something I could use against her later. Maybe it would get her to back off once and for all.

"_Women_!" Another voice chipped in. Must be Lane, her accomplice. _What did she have against me?_

I'd never said a bad word against Lane Kim, nor her mother. She had absolutely no right to agree with Rory on what she was saying, that was just rude.

"She's his _wife_! She should be encouraging him to go to school and think about his future but _no_! She needs a _Town House_ and a _Rolls Royce_!" Rory continued, taking a mighty big stab at my life choices. What did this have to do with her? How did our lives affect her? _And when did I say anything about a Rolls Royce? _Now she was just inventing things to make the story sound better. Trust her to embellish what was a perfectly normal situation. I mean, I knew she was good at English but to start making things up on the spot like that to make me out to be the bad guy? _Geez_, she really _was_ pathetic.

"They're getting a _Rolls Royce_?" Even Lane wasn't convinced, and we'd never really seen eye to eye.

Ever since kindergarten, Rory and Lane had always been as thick as thieves, part of a highly exclusive two member club that no one else could understand, or really wanted to. At one point, I dreamed of being part of their little gang but they were very much against newcomers. I had no place with them. But as the years grew by, I realised that I wasn't missing out; they were just sad losers.

"No but they _are_ the town house, and he didn't even seem that excited about it, it's just _Lindsay_. I mean, why doesn't _she_ get a job? What does _she_ do all day?" They turned the corner of the aisle to face an infuriated me still standing frozen at the shop doorway with a can of soup in my hand. They matched my stance and held my gaze, but clearly not in a romantic fashion. They held my gaze out of disbelief and fear, as if looking away was dangerous. Their mouths were hung open out of terror and their eyebrows were raised in shock and neither of them seemed to know what to do with their suddenly floppy hands. I continued to stand there, my ice-queen-esque front still very strong and fearful, which is how I wanted them to see my right now. I wanted them to fear me, just once. Just so they could pay for the misery she'd put me through these past few months. It was unfortunate though that this had to come right after I'd been publicly shamed and humiliated in the local grocery store. What a tarnish on my squeaky clean Stars Hollow reputation.

I furiously slammed down the can of soup which I'd been clutching for quite some time and walked out of Doose's just before I clammed up again. Thank God Taylor had put up a 2 for 1 window sign that hid my face as I burst out into tears again. I didn't think I could face seeing Lane and Rory ogle at me through the window as I cried over their hurtful comments, especially since I'd been so ready to finally face her not five minutes ago. I closed the door behind me, hearing that tiny little annoying bell ring as I did so, and walked across town just as it started raining. Well, at least my wet hair didn't look out of place now. I held my hands up in disbelief and started running, watching the town square disappear behind my feet. And that was good, because I _so_ didn't want to be here anymore.


	22. Chapter 22

_Hi fellow Gilmore-addicts! Sorry this has taken ages to write but here it is and as a thank you, I've made it a really long chapter so I hope you realise it's worth the wait! Thanks for your continued support. Please Review! Over and out.  
_

Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 22

I got back to the house, my hair soaked and my ego wounded. Rory Gilmore had just publicly humiliated me in the local grocery store, Doose's, and I'd caught her doing it too. Her face had gone pale white and her body trembling with fear and embarrassment as she saw me, but she could never been able to match the sheer mortification I felt at that moment. All the things she said; they hurt:

_'I'm mad about Dean doing this but I'm more mad at Lindsay. She's so selfish_!_', 'She's his wife! She should be encouraging him to go to school and think about his future but no! She needs a Town House and a Rolls Royce!', 'He didn't even seem that excited about it, it's just Lindsay. I mean, why doesn't she get a job? What does she do all day?'_ I couldn't help but keep replaying her comments in my head and analysing them to pick out what she'd really meant.

'_He didn't even seem that excited about it'_ implied that she'd met with Dean recently and discussed it.

So, _when_ had she seen him? And furthermore, _why_ hadn't he mentioned it to me? I mean, many people knew I hated Rory but he didn't. As far as Dean knew, we were casual acquaintances that used to go to the same school, rather than worst enemies childishly fighting over him. So mentioning he was seeing her wouldn't be weird then, right? He'd have no reason to keep that information from me. _Unless_? _No. I can't think that way. Not when I have no evidence that Dean would be unfaithful to me._ Dean really had been especially great these past few months which is why it made me feel so guilty that I'd chosen to keep so much from him.

My phone bleeped in my coat pocket. I took it out, hoping it was Erica. I clicked on the flashing yellow envelope and read the text,

**_What a show! That Rory sure knows how to put you in your place, wifey. Shame you're too weak to respond to her insults, but then again, the truth hurts, don't it?_**

That little witch had got some nerve! I put her snide little comments to the back of my mind and decided to do something pro-active about the situation. I went to my phone settings and blocked Clara's number. Ha. That'd show her. I was surprised I'd never thought of it before.

Back to tonight, I was determined that things were going to change, I planned to make Dean a delicious home-cooked meal and then, just at the point when he could physically eat no more of his favourite roast potatoes, then I'd tell him everything I'd been keeping from him and get everything out in the open – including about his wicked younger sister. I was looking forward to coming clean, but at the same time I couldn't think of anything worse to do. He'd be so mad, so angry at me; his reaction would haunt me forever. I don't think even Dean would be able to stifle a calm and rational response to what I had to say.

The only thing was, I never managed to buy any ingredients for the meal as I was rudely interrupted by her highness Rory and her best friend Lane at Doose's. What was I supposed to cook with now?

I quickly took off my heels and coat, dropped my bag and went over to the kitchen to raid the cupboards. I glanced at the clock, noticing that it was already four o'clock so I had to prepare something that wouldn't take too long to cook. I looked in the fridge, finding that I needn't have gone to Doose's after all. It would have saved me the pain. There was every ingredient I'd ever need already stocked in the fridge. My mother must have been to the store already. I got out a small chicken from the fridge and put it on the rotisserie in the oven to cook, and then began peeling the vegetables and the potatoes. After finishing up, I thought I had just enough time to have a quick bath and make myself fabulous again. It would give me the confidence boost I so badly needed right now.

Three hours later, I was still in the bath. I must've fallen asleep whilst having a soak and unwinding, all my tensions disappearing rapidly as the hot water soothed every ache and pain in my body.

It just felt so good. But the thing was; there was no clock in the bathroom. Why would there be? And so as I relaxed in the bath, forgetting all my problems, time still continued as it usually did, and it got to about half past seven when I decided to get out. So I leisurely got out of the bath, tried myself with a towel and put on my fuchsia pink luxury dressing gown that was unbelievably soft as well as my matching slippers. I started singing to my favourite song on the radio and bopping along to the music for a bit, and then turned off the shower radio that I'd turned up to full volume. But when I did, I realised it was successfully hiding the horrifying noises that were coming from downstairs. The smoke alarm, the egg timer and the house phone were all blaring at full volume from what I could only presume was the kitchen. I gasped in shock: _I'd left the chicken cooking!_ I'd completely forgotten about it!

I quickly sped out of the bathroom in only my dressing gown and slippers, hurried down the stairs to face the whole house practically burning before me. The kitchen was filled with thick smoke and I could barely make out the cooker that clearly held the kitchen that must be burnt to a crisp by now. I rushed and picked up the oven gloves from the kitchen surface and carefully opened the oven door to be faced with a cough-inducing amount of grey smoke. Naturally, it was ruined and undoubtedly inedible to any human that wished to avoid food poisoning. I took out the chicken – which had been turning on the rotisserie for more than twice as long as recommended on the packaging –and placed it on the oven top. What a disaster. I put on the fan to ward off the smoke, turned off the buzzing timer and heard the phone eventually stop ringing.

I took a long hard look at the so-called delicious meal I'd made for Dean: it looked more of a vicious monster than it did a chicken. As if all that chaos wasn't enough, I realised that I must still be home alone, otherwise somebody else in the house would have saved the day and taken the stupid chicken out of the stupid oven to stop the stupid smoke alarm, before it got to this. Why wasn't anyone home? It was quarter to eight. Surely my mother, if not Dean, would be home by now? I sighed in aggravation and frustration. Seconds later, I heard someone unlock the front door. Oh no! I was still in my dressing gown and had dripping wet hair. Nobody, above all Dean, should have to see this; not when I had so many awful things to tell him tonight.

It was my mother, but her smile soon disappeared when she caught sight of what I was wearing, not to mention what was happening behind me in her burning kitchen full of smoke.

"What the hell is going on?" I had never heard my mother swear but I guess the occasion had never arose.

I fumbled with my dressing gown tie, not sure of how to explain what I had done to her beloved kitchen.

"Lindsay Lister, what have you done? Tell me now!" I didn't dare to correct her about my new last name.

"I was cooking a chicken, and then I went in the bath and forgot about it." It all sounded silly saying it aloud. I wasn't sure if she'd believe me. _I_ wouldn't believe me.

"How _long_ were you in the bath?"

My She repeated, her disbelief apparent on her usually composed face.

I nodded, shyly. I felt exactly like I did in the fifth grade when I accidentally knocked over three of the school gnomes that were of a priceless sentimental value to the school; they were apparently one hundred years old or something. Of course, right now I'd definitely rather face an angered Mrs Fox, but at the time I'd felt mortified and very, very guilty. As 'punishment' I'd sent myself straight to bed without supper. My mother didn't even notice.

"About three hours." my voice croaked.

"_Three hours?_" she repeated, dumbfounded.

"I'm _so_ sorry! I was trying to make dinner tonight, and then I figured I had time for a quick soak to relax, but then I got so relaxed that it just slipped my mind. It was a total accident, I swear!"

Her faced gained colour again and then she nodded, calmly. She remained silent for a further two minutes.

My mother not saying anything at all was a hundred times worse than her directly yelling at me – when she said nothing I had no idea what she was thinking or what she planned to do next, and that in itself was pure torture.

She let out a large sigh and crossed her arms across her chest.

"Alright, Lindsay. Well, I'm off to have a drink with Andrew, Barb and your father. We'll be back late." And with that she left. Ugh. My mother was so utterly confusing! I cursed myself afterwards for not asking her where Dean was – I was beginning to get worried. Not that I wanted him to see me in such a state, of course. I just wanted him to page me or call me, just so I knew where he was.

I quickly took a look at my phone. It contained a few messages from Erica and a message from my phone provider saying I was low on credit. Nothing from Dean. Why was I so surprised? It wasn't as if he was a great communicator, even when he was here.

I began to climb the stairs to dry my hair and get dressed when the door opened yet again. I presumed Mother had forgotten something so I continued up the stairs to my bedroom. I shut the door behind me and put on some underwear and then my cute new silk pyjamas. I began drying my hair with the hair dryer but before I'd finished was interrupted by a tall presence behind me.

I shrieked in fear but then felt some warm large hands on my cold shoulders. It was Dean.

"What do you think you're playing at sneaking up on me?" I growled.

Dean laughed, his hazel eyes crinkling at the corners. He hadn't smiled like that in a long time.

"Sorry. I thought you'd heard me come in." He sounded genuinely sorry.

"No!" I giggled, playfully hitting him with a pillow.

"So where have you been all day? I missed you." I carefully placed my arms around his neck, hoping he wouldn't shrug them off like he usually did.

"Extra shifts."

"Oh." My face fell. _Here comes the guilt trip. _Why did he have to spoil the moment like that, just when everything was starting to feel normal again?_  
_

"This evening I talked to Tom." He suddenly sounded serious. He started picking at his fingernails as he did whenever he was nervous. I started to panic: _Had Dean lost his job? __Was he nervous about breaking the news to me?  
_

"Right." I tried to appear calm. Maybe this wasn't as bad as I was making out. He could have been talking to Tom about _anything_. Anything.

"And he was talking about a job opportunity that's come up on the Dragonfly project. It's better paid, there's more responsibility and if that goes well, I might become a fulltime employee of Tom's contracting firm."

"Dean! That's amazing!" I gasped, jumping up and down in a childish manner. But I didn't care. This was just the sort of miracle I'd been hoping for – this way we'd be able to stay in Stars Hollow!

"Thing is, he wants me to start next month."

"So?" _So; we wouldn't be going back to college if he took it. _

"_So_, that's when semester starts again. I can't juggle college and a fulltime job, so I have to choose. I have to let Tom know by next week." He stared down at his feet, clearly dreading my reaction.

"Why wait?" I tried not to let my enthusiasm seem too suspicious.

"What?"

"I mean, when Tom offered you the job, what did you think? _Wow, this is amazing_!, or _Oh dear, I'm gonna' have to say No_?"

"I don't know. It took a while to sink in."

"What do you think I should do?" He countered, turning the question to me.

"I personally think you should take every opportunity that is handed to you, but what kind of a wife would I be if I made all your decisions for you? This is your call." I replied, letting him be aware of my opinion but also letting him think that the decision was his own.

"I see what you mean, but this decision affects you too. I'd have to quit college…."

"_We_'d have to quit college." I added.

"You'd do that for me?" He took my hands in his.

"Dean, you're my husband. I go where you go. It's in the contract." _If Dean is in Stars Hollow, _I thought, guiltily_._

He smiled at me, his eyes twinkling in the harsh lighting. We stood like that for a while.

"I think I finally know what I want." He beamed, finally happy for a change.

"And what is that?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"I want that town house you never stop talking about, I want us to live together, like real family. I want us to pick paint colours together, go furniture shopping, and argue over trivial things like washing up and keeping the place tidy. I want to get that job, so I can support you, look after you, and give you everything you need. I want us to get a dog, name it something silly like Fluffy, and take it for walks around town and in the park. I want us to be a family. But most of all, above everything else, I want _you_."

"Are you in?" He asked, worriedly, as if there were a likely chance of me storming out the door and leaving him at any second. _Right_.

I fell into his arms and stroked his hair, affectionately.

"I always was." I whispered in his ear.

We were finally on the same page. What was I so worried about? Rory was just jealous, making up stories about how Dean had told her he wasn't happy. Why should I believe her? My husband was here, right now, telling me that he was dying to start our new lives together in that town house, which is what I'd strived for all along. He wanted _me, not her_. He pulled away to study my face again.

"Where are your parents?"

"Having a drink with some friends. They'll be a few hours." I smiled, seductively, desperately hoping that we were still thinking the same.

He leaned in to kiss me, and I had no trouble responding. It had been months since he's kissed me like this, and I was not about to let the moment fizzle out so quickly, so I didn't stop. I pulled him closer and let my emotions take over, regardless of what my conscience had to say about it. I felt his strong arms around me in a passionate embrace and the thing that surprised me the most was that he didn't stop either, not even when I tripped over the wire of the hair dryer as we moved around the room, not even when I knocked over one of the ornaments on my dresser as I attempted to be spontaneous, not even when I got his hair caught in my fingers as I tried to be passionate. I forgot about everything when I was with Dean. Nothing mattered but Dean. Dean was everything to me because he was _my_ Dean. Mine. And I was hell bent on it staying that way, too.


	23. Chapter 23

Hi readers! Sorry; this chapter is way overdue - I didn't mean to keep you hanging there! Anyway, thank you _so _for your support and I'll hopefully be updating more often in the near future. __

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Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 23

I sat up in bed and quietly switched the light on, careful not to wake Dean. He was asleep with his arms positioned neatly beside him – I always found him so adorable when he was sleeping.I could watch him all day and he'd have no idea. Sometimes I tried to but then he'd wake up and I felt really embarrassed. I crept out of bed and slowly tip-toed to the bathroom wary of the creaky floorboards. In the bathroom I studied my appearance carefully. My makeup was smudged and my hair was still wet as I'd never finished drying it – I looked a bit of a mess, really. I quietly took a brush, ran it through my hair and then started on my makeup. I applied some fresh eyeliner, mascara and some nude pink lipstick. With my shiny hair and neat makeup, I looked pretty sexy – definitely a lot better than before. I picked up some cereal bars and began to munch at them – the last thing I'd eaten was half a cookie at the café with Erica.

I was about to pass out. It was now 9.15 so I was surprised I'd been able to sleep for as long as I had. I thought back to when I was shopping in Michel and I'd bought an outfit from that ridiculous shop. Why had I bothered? I didn't need any of that to improve what I had with Dean; I just needed to _talk_ to him. Funny really. I started on the second bar when I noticed Dean stirring in the bed – was he awake? I stopped munching and kept completely still. My plan seemed to be working until he tossed over to face my side and felt at the bed covers – he was obviously expecting there to be another body beside him. His eyes opened in alarm, and I rushed over to comfort him. He was like a paranoid child – but instead of hating that and wishing he was more manly, I loved it. I loved comforting Dean, and him needing me. I think that was one of the reasons why I wanted to become a wife. I wanted to be needed. Being a girlfriend entails minimal responsibilities and some girls like that, but I always wanted more. He sat up in the bed and gestured for me to sit beside him. I did so, obediently.

"For a second there, I thought you'd left me," He admitted, embarrassed.

"It's ok. I never left the room. I didn't want to wake you." I kissed his cheek.

"Thanks, but I wasn't really asleep. I have a lot to think about. _We_ have a lot to think about."

"Like what?"

"Like … how amazing you are in _every_ single way possible." By that I knew what he meant. They never think about anything else I'm sure. But I was still touched by the impromptu complement. It rarely happened these days.

"Well, I wouldn't go _that_ far …" I was enjoying this.

"No, seriously Lindsay. You're _un_believable. For starters, you're the perfect wife, you do everything for me, you put up with my Mother, you put up with _me_, you put up with my little sister, you're willing to quit college in aid of my career, you…"

"What did you say about Clara?" I had picked up her name in his little speech.

"Well, she is over here way more often than she should be. I know she wants to spend time with you because you're her sister-in-law so its hard telling her to back off."

"I don't understand." What lies had Clara been feeding him?

"Lindsay, I can tell you find her annoying and persistent. I love her because she's my sister but that doesn't necessarily mean that you have to spend every spare moment with her. So I told her to give you some space."

"What did she say?" I was waiting for her to say something evil and spiteful about me so that Dean would 'break off the marriage'. That was what she wanted after all, wasn't it?

"Lindsay, she's thirteen. She said that's fine. What else would she say? She's not a monster."

I grimaced at this point. I soon regretted it.

"What?"

"It's just that –" I began.

"It's just that – " He repeated.

"It's just that we don't get on." I admitted, sparing the details.

"And that's fine. Like I said, you don't have to be _best_ friends."

"Great, cos' we're not best friends at all. Dean, the girl is out to get me."

"_Clara_?" _Shock Horror!_ It was evident that he definitely was _not_ expecting this.

"Yes, Clara." At this point I wished I hadn't said anything.

"Clara my sister?"

"Yes."

"Clara my little sister who _adores_ you?"

"How many times, _yes_! But she doesn't adore me at all. It's all an act. She is a monster. With me, at least."

"So what has she done, then? _Huh_? What has she done that is so terribly _awful_?"

"When you're not around Clara taunts me, she says these awful things that really hurt. Like, you know that photo she brought round here? It was to hurt me."

"You saw that?" _As if he thought I wouldn't see what the fuss was about. Did he take me for a fool?_

"After you left she told me that it was only so long before you –"

"Whole sentences, Lindsay!"

"Before you got back together with Rory Gilmore!" I yelled.

"And why would I do that?"

"Because she's in love with you. Everybody knows it and you're the only one that's denying it. Today I heard her mouthing off at me at Doose's when she thought I was busy ruining your life. The things she said, Dean. You wouldn't believe it. _"Lindsay, she's so selfish, she's so darn demanding and heartless and she has absolutely no care in the world about Dean's education. I hate her, Lane. I really do."_ I did nothing to deserve that, Dean, which is why I don't want you to see her anymore."

"Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack. If you want this marriage to work, you have to cut her out of your life."

"So one problem at a time: you're saying that my little sister is an evil witch and that I am forbidden to see someone not only am a friends with but someone I'm bound to run into anyway – it's a small town and I work at her mom's inn!"

"I don't care, Dean. She's ruining everything! I can't let her _win_!"

"So all you care about is winning? Not about me? This is all a game to you?"

"Of course not Dean, I Love You, you know that. But isn't it about time that I win _something_?"

"What's this really about? I can tell when you're trying to relate the subject to something else."

"You know the huge problems I had with college. For once I want to actually succeed at something."

"I know you had problems with college, but we always planned to .."

"So much for whole sentences." I muttered.

"Wait. This is why you jumped on the idea of us living and working in Stars Hollow!" It was clear he was having some sort of epiphany.

"We were never going back to SCSU together, were we?"

I said nothing. I looked down at my feet.

"Lindsay, be straight with me. You owe me that at least. Did you ever intend for us to go back to college together?"

I shook my head.

"So you knew you weren't going back because you had problems, but what about me, huh? What were your plans for me?" He raised his voice, challenging me. I could tell that any love for me had left his eyes. He was now cold and bitter, wishing to make me feel at least one thousand times worse about the situation than I already did. He'd changed. He wasn't the Dean I knew and loved, the one I'd ran across beaches with in Italy, the one I'd teased, the one I'd giggled with, the one I'd had silly spats with about silly things and then made up later loving each other twice as much afterwards, the one I trusted, the one I cared for, No. This Dean wanted revenge, and nothing more from me.

"I hoped you'd change your mind." I whimpered, tears running down my face as I felt my world breaking apart.

"_Aha_. I knew the extreme enthusiasm about my job offer was too good to be true. So, you've been lying to me all these months?" It was less a question and more a revelation to him. He just needed confirmation.

"And now it all fits in to place. This is why David was so shy when I brought up the subject of us coming back. He knew too, didn't he?"

I nodded. Erica obviously had told him.

"So what you're telling me now is that you struggled at SCSU, you then told me that we were taking a few months out and going back later when honestly, you figured you couldn't hack it so you thought you'd lie to me and try to convince me to quit our educations completely to lead perfect little lives in perfect little Stars Hollow."

"Did you ever think about me, Lindsay? What about my dreams?" I barely had enough time to react to one guilt-inducing question until he moved onto another one.

"When exactly were you going to tell me? I mean, it's not like you could have hidden it forever? Surely you knew I'd notice when it came to going back for the semester."

"Tonight. I was going to tell you tonight." I wasn't entirely certain if that were true.

"Before or after we slept together, Lindsay?"

I grabbed my hair and started tugging at it, as I always did when I was stressed. I then held my heavy guilt-filled head in my hands and felt them go limp. Not even my own body could support me at such a time.

"You know, Lindsay. When we said those vows back in the church, I truly believed that in this relationship we were going to be honest with each other. Now I have happily abided by every single one of those rules because I made a commitment to you because I thought you were making a commitment to me too. Now I don't know how you've got these crazy ideas into your head about my sister, my loyalty and my education but I assure you I want absolutely nothing to do with you anymore. And that's a promise." He started packing some of his stuff into a gym bag and walking towards the door. Half-dressed I had no idea where he would go.

"What happened to me being amazing in every single way possible?" I whispered as he was about to shut the door, symbolically I was sure.

"It was all a lie. I know that now." He slammed it shut. I pressed my ear up against the door and heard him walk all the way down the stairs, say something to who I assumed to be my parents and aggressively shut the front door. I slid down the door and sat against it for a while until my parents came knocking at the door.

"Lindsay, what's going on? Where's Dean going?"

He obviously hadn't told them. I knew it would be easier not to.

"He's gone to his friends' for the night. Guy's night out. I told him he could go." I prayed that they believed it.

"Sounds great!" I heard my dad approve and then go back downstairs, probably to a beer and a properly cooked meal.

"Alright, Lindsay. Do you want to come eat with us?" She asked. I was starving after my ordeal but I deserved to suffer after what I'd done.

"No, I'm fine. I'm just going to stay here for a while."

I hear her follow my dad downstairs. It was better this way.

I waited for them to get down to the kitchen and then started having a panic attack. I was crying, yelping, sobbing and trying to breathe all at the same time. It came out sounding as if I were a hysterical mental patient. Maybe I was one. If anyone met my Mother they would believe it. My hands started shaking and I found myself curling into a ball on the floor again, safe in the knowledge that nobody was going to find me like this. I know most girls post-break-up might ask themselves _How could he do this to me?_ But I didn't deserve the satisfaction of not knowing the answer to that question. I knew exactly how.


	24. Chapter 24

_Hello! Here's your Lindsay fix - Hope you enjoy it. Please review - they always make me so happy!_

Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 24

It was early morning, about 7 in the morning when I woke up to the sun and realised that I hadn't been outside for over a week. I wasn't exaggerating either – for the past however long I'd laid in bed in my old bedroom, in my dirty old pyjamas and had only left it to use the bathroom, to ask my mother for some more reading material or to check the mail. My parents even delivered my food to my room now – and I was glad of this because there was no way I could face sitting across the table from them eating dinner, making small talk, pretending that everything was ok. I just couldn't do that. Right now they thought I had some weird virus that prevented me from doing anything normal, like leaving my room for instance. Of course I'd told them there was nothing serious about it so there was absolutely no need for me to see a doctor – this way I'd get what I wanted without having to explain the real reason why.

Since Dean had left me, I'd fallen apart and couldn't get myself together. I spent my days crying and wallowing in my own self pity because nobody truly loved me. That was all I'd ever wanted. I had it once, but through my own scheming I'd managed to have it suddenly snatched away without warning. It was what I deserved, I knew, but it still felt like there was a huge crater in my body that had formed when Dean left. I'd told my parents that he was staying away because of my illness, and they seemed to believe it, but there was only so long that I could recite the same old lie before they suspected something. Eventually I'd have to tell them something else; maybe that Dean was going back to college? _Would they really believe that? That he kept missing dinners because of his heavy work load and that he'd meant to drop in to see me but he could never find the time and that he never called because he was too busy enjoying his college experience?_ I wasn't entirely sure if they would be that naïve, despite how much I'd lied to them this week. My mother had asked me a few days ago what was really wrong with me – physically or mentally I didn't know – but I managed to fob her off by asking her to get me some more water for my sore throat to distract her. She hadn't mentioned it again, but how long would it be before she worked it out? That Dean wasn't coming back - ever?

My stomach churned whenever I thought about their reaction. _Lindsay, how could you let this happen? You are a terrible wife! Why can't you please us by being the perfect wife to lovely Dean? Lindsay, you must beg him to return! You must do everything in your power to get him back! If you don't, we will disown you, as this is all we have ever asked of you. We want you to be happy with Dean! He is a perfect husband! _And so on…..

I couldn't face any more guilt. I'd had enough from myself already not to mention the guilt Dean had put on me last week. Was it really last _week_? I really had been here forever. I got out of bed to study myself in the mirror. My hair was greasy and knotty, my pyjamas reeked of salt and sweat and my face looked like it hadn't seen water in a lifetime. I thought about freshening up to make myself feel better but then I realised that there was no point because it wouldn't change anything. I'd still be alone and verging on becoming an agoraphobic freak. Maybe I could stay here forever – I was in a nice comfortable safe room where I could survive literally and socially. I mean, I'd get no grief about Dean if I never left the house, would I? But saying that I felt safe here didn't undermine the fact that there were a lot of memories in this house – in _every _room.

I hadn't been in 'our bedroom' since that night, I daren't, but my old bedroom wasn't' much better – he'd been in here whilst we were dating and everything was still fresh and new and exciting.

We had the whole lives ahead of us and nothing could stop us. We both had dreams. Before we got married, that was. In this very room, Dean and I had had our first date, our fist kiss, our first fight and our fist make-up. It all seemed silly now, but I remembered how fun we both used to be. Maybe that was why we had problems. Because I turned into my Mother – the boring, strict, traditional wife who lives to serve her husband till the day she dies – which was something I never thought would happen despite fearing it all these years. I became her.

I climbed back into my bed, pulled the covers over my head and curled up again as I always did. It was my way of dealing. It seemed to be working, until I felt a large pain on one of my legs. I yelped in pain, and threw off the duvet cover to see who was sat on me.

"Whoa, Sorry! Lindsay, what are you doing laid like that, so no-one can see you?" It was Erica, looking as fabulous as ever in a green silk blouse that complemented her fiery hair colour, and a black skirt with glossy patent heels. She looked like she were about to step about onto a catwalk runway modelling Work Wear for Chanel.

"Hiding!" I replied, pulling the cover back over my head. There was no way I could let Erica see me like this.

I looked atrocious and Erica was one of the least favourite people I'd choose to witness my grotesque appearance. I always tried to look together when she was around.

"Who from?"

"The World!"

"And why is that?"

"Because I'm a loser, a liar and a paranoid lunatic!"

"What are you _talking _about? Your Mom said you have a virus? Pull back the covers and talk to me!" She demanded, using a tone of voice that screamed _Do as I say_. I always did as she said when she spoke like that. I pulled back the cover and winced, as if she'd walk out as soon as she saw what a mess I was.

"I'm not physically ill, I'm just mentally ill. Dean's gone - I drove him away, and I haven't left the house since it happened. A virus was the perfect excuse. My parents have no idea." I babbled, not letting her speak for fear of her response.

"Dean's left you? What happened? Tell me everything." She gasped.

I explained what had happened the night of Dean's departure. She looked so sympathetic; it was nice to finally have someone to talk to about it. I was in the grieving process of the end of our relationship, and I felt like I had to mourn over my loss.

"I can't believe it. I mean, I know you did some pretty bad things, but none of them justify leaving you over it. He's being a big baby, if you ask me." Erica's logic always cheered me up – it was one of the reasons I loved her so much.

"So why didn't he at least try to get over it? I mean, we haven't talked since so I've been expecting the divorce papers to be through the post any day now. I've been rifling through our mail every day this week, just to make sure he hadn't done it yet. I need some time to talk to him first though I can't see myself actually doing it." Checking the mail was just about the only time I went downstairs. Every morning at around 7.30am – they were both asleep at this time – I'd tiptoe downstairs and looked through it – I didn't want them seeing some solicitor's logo on the envelope, did I? According to them, I was ill not going through a marriage breakdown.

"He just needs time to cool off. He'll come around, you _know_ he will. He just wants a bit of space so he can realise how much he has to lose over some petty little thing." Erica comforted me, smiling. I loved how she could give a bleak situation such a positive outlook.

"Is it petty?" I countered.

"Yes, it is. If you were boyfriend and girlfriend, then _maybe_ he'd break up with you – Maybe. But I really don't think that Dean is the sort of person to end his _marriage_ over a few white lies. Soon enough he'll realise that he's being an _idiot_." She drew out the 'idiot' to really make him sound like one.

"I hope so." I sighed.

"So, what's up? I mean, you didn't know I was ill, and you didn't know I was in bits over Dean so why'd you come, if you don't mind me asking?" I questioned, trying to change the subject.

"I came for your help actually, and since you haven't been answering your phone all week, I thought I'd come and talk to you in person."

"_Help_? With what? I hope you don't want advice – I'm definitely _not_ the person to ask for that right now."

"No, it's not advice. I'm planning this charity event and I was wondering if you'd help me out with organising everything. And now I see that this is the perfect thing to take your mind off ... _other_ things." Her thought process was clear.

"Why didn't you ask your other friends to help out?"

"All _far_ too busy,"

"So you thought you'd ask me, knowing I'd have nothing better to do? _Gee, thanks_!" I joked, sarcastically.

"It wasn't like that I _swear_!" She replied, honestly. She clearly didn't realise that I was joking.

"Erica, I was _joking_! Anyway, tell me more about this charity event."

"Well, it's for Cancer Research and it's aimed at students. I was thinking about having a theme. So far the only ideas I've come up with are a Hawaiian theme – all coconut bikinis and grass skirts, or we could have a Time Warp theme – you know people dressing up as celebrities from the past. I thought I could be _Madonna_! What do you think?" She explained, with lots of enthusiasm.

"A theme sounds great! Your ideas sound fun, but how about a Casino Theme? Girls dressed as glamorous show girls and guys dressed as 007?"

"Linds, that sounds great! We could have fake poker chips and fake gambling and fancy cocktails! We could even have someone teaching people how to play different card games!"

"Wow, you really think it would work?" I asked.

"Totally! Don't you?" She turned the question back at me.

"Well, come to think of it, it does sound fun! So, how does the charity thing come into it? Do people pay an entrance fee?"

"Yeah, I was thinking about $60 each, maybe?" She pondered, with little thought to it.

"For that price, it had better be good, Erica." I warned. There would be a lot of angry students if things went pear shaped.

"Oh, it will be good. It's gonna' be a_ma_zing, I promise you. But I have to go, babe, got a class, so I'll call you later, yeah?"

I nodded, happily. She started to walk away.

"And Lindsay?" She stopped at the door and turned.

"Yeah?"

"Get up, get out of bed, put on something that makes you feel good about yourself and go do something _fun_ – you need to leave the house – _immediately_!"

"Will do." I saluted to her obediently as if I were a soldier in the army.

"Things are going to work out, hun. Dean's being a jerk and the sooner he realises that, the sooner he'll come running back into your arms begging for forgiveness. And whenever you need to talk, _promise_ me you'll pick up the phone and call me, what_ever_ time it is. I'm here for you." I smiled, and let a tear out. Finally someone was saying exactly what I needed to hear.


	25. Chapter 25

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Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 25

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Sad face.

It was the evening of the casino night and I had gone all out to look the very best possible version of myself.

I'd spent the six weeks searching for the perfect dress and looking at it now in the long mirror, I knew I'd picked well. I was surprised at how long it had taken Erica to organise the event – but then again, she was taking like a hundred classes this semester so she probably didn't have a lot of time to do it. I was also surprised that she hadn't asked me to help out more; I'd given her the idea but I was half-expecting her to call me the week later begging for help. Not that she was the begging type, but if she was organising this all on her own surely she'd take all the help she could get?

I stopped questioning it and stared at myself in the mirror again. I was wearing a mid-length silver strapless dress with tiny embroided flowers along the top – it was as close as a show girl dress as it was going to get! Erica had been there to help me pick it; she had an impeccable taste in fashion. I looked almost as beautiful as I did on my wedding day. I let out a tear, but quickly wiped it away careful not to smudge my carefully designed makeup. My hair was swept back into a sophisticated side bun, quite different from my usual look, and I had to admit it looked a lot better than my usual style of a hadn't-made-an-effort ponytail. I dabbed on some more lipstick and then headed out, careful to avoid my oblivious parents. I scuttled down the stairs and quietly shut the door. I heard my mother call, '_Lindsay? Lindsay, is that you?_' but I ran off down the street long before she had time to work out that I definitely was _not_ in my room.

Since Erica had called round at my house, I'd made up another story for my parents about me going to community college part-time three days a week to do Home Economics. It meant that I was learning a bit more about cooking, and it got me out of the house too. The story about Dean was that he was doing an Internship with Tom and was out of town a lot doing training programmes. I told them not to call round at the Dragonfly anymore to avoid them finding out, and I told them that Dean often came home late but then took off early so that's why they never saw him. I'd asked Dean's parents to keep quiet and they'd agreed – reluctantly, might I add, but they knew that it was my decision and my problem to deal with so they weren't going to make things more difficult for me than they needed to be. My dad seemed to buy into my story but my mother was unconvinced –_why wouldn't she be?_ My story had so many flaws it was surprising I'd pulled it off for this long.

I hated carrying on the façade, it was unfair to keep them in the dark, but it was the easiest option for now. Of course I'd have to tell them eventually, but for now I wanted to avoid all their selfish questions.

I kept walking down Peach Street thinking about my life, how it had so quickly spiralled out of my control and before I could talk myself out of it I found myself standing in the entrance of the Dragonfly Inn.

Dean was working on the skirting boards, crouched down in the corner of the hallway. He had his back facing me but he had his special yellow hard hat on so I knew it was him. I didn't want to think about how he was going to react when he saw me; it had been over seven weeks since we'd talked. I'd seen him on the street of course, it was a small town, but he'd always avoided me in some way or another.

"Dean," I called.

"What?" He asked, curtly, cutting all the small talk I'd subconsciously prepared for.

He didn't even comment on my appearance.

"I wanted to see how you were doing." I replied, politely. He looked down at his feet.

"How _are_ you doing?" I rephrased.

"I'm fine, I'm good, I'm great. Is that it? I need to get back to work." _Always the work excuse_, I noted.

"No. I never got chance to say that I'm sorry. You know; that night? I never got a chance to say how sorry I am for doing all those things to you, for hurting you like that. You never deserved to be treated with such disrespect and I want to apologise for acting like such a jerk about it. I'm _so_ sorry Dean." I wiped a tear from my eye, but remained strong. We both needed to hear this.

"You done now?" He replied, rudely.

"Yeah, that's it." I croaked, quietly. I turned to walk away but then turned back to face him again.

"You don't have to be so cruel about it, you know?"

"Sorry?"

"I feel _truly_ awful about what I've done so I can accept that you won't ever forgive me but I _can't_ accept that you're treating me like… I don't know. Like a _servant_ or something. We're still _married_, Dean, whether you like it or not."

"I've been thinking about that, Lindsay. Maybe we should _do_ something about it?" He cried.

"You want a divorce, _fine_, but you will be losing the one person that actually _cares _about you for who you _are_."

"And what's _that_ supposed to mean?" He countered.

"_Think_ about it." I was determined to have the last word in this fight.

"What do you mean, Lindsay? What the hell are you _on_ about?" He yelled.

"And _where_ are you going?"

"I'm going out with Erica and David tonight." I explained, simply.

"You come back here and explain, _right_ now!"

"Whatever, Dean." I walked out again, passing Lorelai and Sookie on my way – who had clearly been eaves-dropping this whole time – and took in the fresh air. I felt better. I'd witnessed his true colours, once and for all. He was such an _ogre_. I started walking back into Stars Hollow and called for a taxi on my way; I was going to Erica's party tonight, and I was going to have a fabulous time – with_out_ Dean.

It was 8.30 when I got to the venue of the Charity Event. It was being held at this fancy bar uptown with a huge function room for this sort of thing, and I felt very special when I was telling the Taxi Driver where I was going.

When I stepped out, though, I was confused. It sure was an amazing place. The outside brickwork of the building was painted a dark grey with black outlining, and the window frames were engraved with beautiful flowers and spiral patterns that made it look very elegant and sophisticated. But looking past this, it was completely dead. I worried I'd got the wrong venue, so I asked the taxi driver to wait on until I found out if I was in the right place. I got out my phone and scuttled round the corner to get a better signal, hoping that the taxi driver would be there when I got back.

"Erica? Hey, it's Lindsay. I think I'm lost." I complained, feeling like a ten year old again. Geography never had been my strong point.

"Jessie's Bar? 172 Georgetown?"

"Yeah, I'm there, but no-one else is. Did I get the wrong time, or the wrong day?" I panicked, shaking.

"No, no. We're here. Come in. Honestly, it's _all_ happening inside. Get _in_ here, Linds!" Erica replied, distractedly. She must have seen something cute walk by.

"Ok, er, see you in there .." I mumbled and hung up, walking back to where the Taxi previously was, but it was no more. _I knew I couldn't trust him!_ I cursed. I walked towards what looked like the 'bar' entrance, but stopped. The door was shut and everything was pitch black inside – it was _closed_. Why would Erica tell me she was here? Was this some sort of practical joke? I took my phone out and started to dial the number of a cab company, but was suddenly hauled into the building. I dropped my phone and squealed, thinking that I was being kidnapped. Suddenly, all the lights turned on, people popped out of nowhere, and some funky dance music started playing from the huge stereo system.

"_**SURPRISE!" **_People yelled, smiling at me, expectantly. Who were these people? And why were they surprising me? Were the people at the charity event doing this to every guest?

I noticed red in the crowd, and automatically rushed to hug Erica. Nobody else had hair like that. I noticed the other guests separating from the crowd and talking to one another.

"Happy Birthday, Lindsay!" She smiled. Erica was dressed in a deep sea green Grecian-style dress with blue feathers decorated around it; her vibrant red hair creating a dramatic contrast between the colours. She looked like a goddess, never mind a glamorous show girl. Looking around, every one seemed to be in brilliant casino-themed costumes – all the guys dressed in tuxes with glossy black shoes and slicked back hair and the girls had buckets of garish makeup plastered over their faces and low-cut dresses with feathers everywhere.

"What? But this is a charity event?" I asked, confusedly.

"Nope. It's your surprise themed _birthday_ party! I totally fooled you, didn't I?"

"But my birthday was last _week_?"

"I _know_. That's why it's so great – you didn't expect it!" Erica laughed, gleefully. She was obviously tipsy.

"I see the logic." I giggled.

"So if this is my surprise birthday party, why don't I know anybody?" I whispered, cautious of the other guests.

"We were short on numbers; I hope you don't mind." At least she was honest.

"No, it's fine. Erica, this is such a lovely thing. I can't believe you're throwing me a surprise late birthday party! This is so cool." I admired her work.

"I _know_. That's why I wanted ideas from you, but not actual input. I didn't want to give the game away."

"Thank you _so_ much."

"No problem. But now I'm off to talk to this guy at the bar – he has _totally_ been making eyes at me all night. See ya soon, birthday girl." She gave me an air kiss and sauntered off.

Once she'd gone I could finally appreciate the venue. The wallpaper was a beautiful black and gold flower pattern with elegant sconces and dramatic canvases of dices and card houses positioned on it. In the corner of the room there was a poker table with a crowd of guys huddling around it. There was a sudden outburst of laughing and cheering, so it was clear that it was a very intense card game they were involved in. There was a garish multicoloured 'Happy Birthday' banner plastered above the bar which looked completely out of place, but I overlooked that, because Erica had gone to so much trouble to organise the whole thing.

The bar was buzzing with students holding brightly coloured cocktails and snazzy wine glasses. Legally, since most of the students in here weren't 21, people shouldn't actually be drinking, but the bar tender was so rushed off his feet with orders he seemed careless about the ID-checking. I'd be 21 this time next year, but for now I was happy being just 20.

I turned around and surveyed the room for people. Although these people had had the courtesy to come to my party, even though they didn't actually know me, they didn't seem all that friendly. I couldn't recognise one of them. Suddenly I felt alone again. Didn't take long these days. I went over to the bar, got a blue cocktail with a cherry stick and a paper umbrella – not even asking what it was – and then sat down on one of the plush chairs with it and started gulping at it. It tasted disgusting, but I continued, knowing that things were going to get better once I lightened up and could actually enjoy myself.

I thought back to my actual birthday not too long ago; it had been spent tucked up in my warm bed watching lots of soppy films – _The Titanic_, followed by _The Notebook_, followed by _P.S. I Love You_.

I'd told my parents to back off, despite them wanting to have a huge lawn party with a gazebo and a barbeque and iced tea to celebrate. It took a lot of will-power – they love a good party – but eventually they came to the conclusion that I was an ungrateful child and that I didn't deserve a party anyway. It was a win-win situation, in my eyes.

Of course I'd missed Dean; a lot. We'd been planning my 20th birthday for a while. We were going to take a trip to Coventry, stay in a cosy little lake house for a couple of days and get away from it all. We were going to take a hiking trip in the daytime and Dean was going to teach me how to fish and I was going to teach him about Photography – which was one of the few subjects I enjoyed learning about in high school – and we were going to stay up till the early hours, just talking and enjoying being with each other. I couldn't help myself thinking, _I wish he was here with me now_. I tried to make myself take it back but I couldn't. I took a swig of whatever the hell was in my glass and choked back my tears. It was going to be a long night.


	26. Chapter 26

_Happy Easter! This is my equivalent of an Easter Egg to you. So Please Please Please Review!  
_

Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 26

An hour later I found myself talking into my phone. I wasn't sure who I was talking to, but whoever it was, they were keeping quiet.

"And I loved you _so_ much, Dean, I _really_ did, but I _hate_ you now because you _ruined_ my life and you are such a _jerk_ for treating me like that because I feel so _guilty_ about what I did: college, Clara and Rory. Oh, _Rory_, she's so _pretty_, so _perfect_, you might as well just _marry_ her …"

Someone shook me.

"Lindsay, what are you doing?" A worried voice sounded in my ear.

My phone spoke, "Your phone message time limit is over." So I wasn't really talking to anyone? I thought I was winning an argument. Lots of different emotions had poured out of me this evening: hurt, anger, pain, loss, happiness, silliness, craziness; the lot. Eventually I settled on being very _very_ confused; and drunk.

I realised I must have been speaking to Dean's voicemail.

"Oh _no_!" I gasped, holding my hand over my mouth. I could not believe I'd been drunk enough to call Dean and just yell at him through his voicemail when he didn't pick up – luckily; I think. I felt so ashamed. I looked up to see who was talking to me, and found David, sitting next to me, looking handsomer than ever. His previously shaggy brown locks were perfectly groomed into a sharp cut, his teeth were pearly white and he was wearing a suit – _David_! He really did look like 007. Looking at his face, I'd never really noticed how cute he was.

"What?" He asked, in response to my _Oh no!_ moment. And probably also due to the fact that I was staring at him.

"Nothing; it doesn't matter." I shook my head, and gave my best smile. He smiled back.

"David, you look _great_. How are you?" I managed to get out, nervously.

"I'm good thanks, and you?" He enquired, genuinely. I could tell he wasn't just being polite.

"I'm good, too. Thanks. You know, I've never seen you wear a suit before."

"Well, I don't usually wear it round my Dorm Room." He joked. I'd forgotten how funny he could be.

"_Right_. So, how's college? You acing your classes?"

"I _am_, as a matter of fact. I stopped messing around, got some help and now I'm doing really well. It's all down to you, you know." He explained, dropping his head.

"Sorry?" I asked, confusedly. What was down to me?

"You always told me I could do more. You believed in me." He confessed, giving me eye contact again. I found it hard not to stare.

"You're smart, David. Anybody else would have told you the same." I brushed it off.

"But they _didn't_. So, I'm thanking you." He smiled again. I blushed. Why was I acting so weird around him? I'd seen him around hundreds of times whilst we were living together and I never acted like this around him. Maybe it was because we'd never been alone like this; just us talking. At least one other person, Erica or Dean, had been in the room also.

"_Wow_. So, who'd you come with?" I found myself asking, before I could stop myself.

"No-one. I'm flying solo tonight."

"No date?" I asked again.

"No. I actually just split up with my girlfriend so I'm not dating _college_ girls at the moment."

"_Girlfriend_?" David had always been a bit of a player but he'd never had a proper girlfriend before. Had David grown up?

"Yeah, she was called Lucy. Smart, funny, pretty, but there was something missing, you know? I never felt like I could be myself around her. Always pretending to be someone better."

"I know the feeling." I mused, thinking of me trying to be Rory for Dean.

"Mind if I ask about Dean?" I asked, carefully, as if he knew he shouldn't be asking but desperately wanted to.

"He's fine." I shot back, keen to avoid the subject. I didn't want to have to think about the stupid message I'd just sent him.

"I meant about how you're holding up about the split?" Erica had obviously told him what happened. David had gone all emotional and sensitive on me, as I could tell from his eyes that he seriously cared about how I was.

"I'm fine. It's been tough, but I'm starting to come around to the idea that I'm _single_ again, but I'm still _married_. He wants to get a divorce." I admitted.

"Do _you_?"

"I think … yes. We're obviously never getting back together, so what's the point of being married to each other a second longer, right? If we get divorced, I'll be able to move on, once and for all."

"I don't know what to say."

"I don't know. Say you're sorry my marriage is over, say I don't deserve this, say that there are plenty more fish in the sea. I get that a lot." I laughed, glad to be able to joke about it. Somehow I felt better.

"Dean's a jerk for letting you go, you know that?"

"Since _when_ were you against Dean? You two were or _are_ so close,"

"Not anymore." He was making it sound like he ended their friendship when Dean left me. Was that true?

"Oh." I replied, noticing that the song had changed to _Hear You Me_ by _Jimmy Eat World_ – an unusual song choice for a party.

"Hey, I love this song. Lindsay Lister, would you like to dance?" He asked, standing up and holding his hand out for me to take. I'd noticed he'd called me Lindsay _Lister_, rather than Forrester. Did that mean something or did he just slip up? It wasn't like he'd ever called me that before.

"I'd love to." I smiled, taking his hand and walking over to the dance floor where lots of people had gathered. It had been a while since I'd been asked to dance by a guy, and it was flattering.

Once on the dance floor, I realised that this was a slow dance. Did I really want to get this close to David? Positioned like that, I'd be forced to make complete and total eye contact with him. Did he realise this? I was still clutching his hand. Embarrassed, I released his hand and tried to copy what the other girls were doing, and placed my hands around his neck. I felt his arms on my back. I looked up and found him staring at me, enchanted.

"You look amazing tonight."

I blushed again. What was happening to me?

"Thanks." I didn't know what to say. David seemed all caring and considerate, but was that all it was? That he just cared about his ex-roommate and his ex- best friend's wife, like a friend?

"Do you remember the first time we met?" He asked, gazing into my eyes.

I nodded.

"I sat on you." I laughed.

"Yeah you did. And when I pulled back the covers, I saw this forceful girl who started yelling at me, just because I was sleeping in my own bed. I couldn't believe it. And the thing was, you just kept talking at me – I'd never met anybody who talked so fast in my life."

I giggled. I recalled that I asked him to move to room eighteen, as he couldn't possibly be living with us.

"And then I met Dean, who seemed like a nice guy. And he was, until he told me about why you two were married. I believe he said it was because 'there was no point in waiting around'."

"He changed when we got to college."

"I had no idea what you saw in him. You always seemed out of his league."

"Out of his league? I don't think so!" I scoffed.

"Come on, Lindsay! You're smart, you're funny, you're incredibly beautiful and you actually care about people. If _I_ were with you, there was no way I'd treat you like he did,"

What was he trying to say? That he wanted to be with me? Was he just being friendly? I had so many questions going through my mind, but before I could answer them I drew him in closer, feeling the warmth of his body. _What am I doing?_ My conscience cried, but I ignored it and moved my hands to be around his back, resting my chin on his shoulder, affectionately. At least I didn't have to look at his beautiful face anymore – it was killing me knowing that I really _really_ wanted to kiss him at this point. It was probably all in my head, anyway.

I enjoyed swaying to the music with him, both in our own world, and for now that's all it was. Two friends just dancing. But towards the end of the song, as if he'd finally convinced himself to do something, he pulled away from my tight grasp, looked me in the eye again, put a strand of my hair behind my ear and kissed me, softly, winding his arms around me. I smiled, and kissed him back, pulling him back to me. I ignored every other person around us, because they were irrelevant. A few seconds later, I pulled away and walked back to where my clutch bag was, took it and headed towards the exit. I turned around only for a second to mouth to David, 'I'm so sorry'.

I was half-drunk, confused about my feelings for Dean, still _married_ to Dean, and here I was, taking advantage of someone who truly cared about me. David didn't deserve that. And I hated myself for letting it get so far. Maybe I did have feelings for David, but it wasn't fair to let it happen like this – and if he ever did forgive me for what I was doing right now, then I would make it up to him somehow. I knew that at least. For me to move on to other guys, I'd have to be divorced. Did I cheat on Dean? I asked myself. We weren't together, but we were still married. I suddenly felt incredibly guilty. I'd cheated on Dean, and I'd misled David. I was such a cow, I thought as I cried into my hands, dropping my clutch bag as I let out a huge sob. And to top it all off, I'd abandoned Erica on my own birthday party, but there was no way I could go back in there even just to say goodbye. I'd have to see David again, and witness his beautiful face upset. That face would haunt me forever.

_What a night._


	27. Chapter 27

_Hellooo lovely readers! Sorry it's been so long for an update - it's well overdue. Anyway, I'm so surprised at how many different lindsay stories there are now! Reckon I've started a trend? Only joking. She's a great character who wasn't featured enough in the series - Lindsay Power! Enjoy this chapter - it has an Oh No! moment at the end x_

Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 27

I woke up the next morning on my tiled bathroom floor, unaware of what time I eventually got in, how I did so without waking my strict parents and what I was doing in my bathroom lying face down on the fluffy shower mat.

I got up, examined myself in the mirror and recoiled. I looked like a zombie. I started off by brushing my teeth, slowly piecing together last night's events whilst doing so. I remembered going to the party, getting drunk and stumbling back home; then throwing up when I got home. _That must be why I never left the bathroom all night._

_Well done D.C. Lister. Another mystery solved._

I started to wash my face, rubbing away all the grimy makeup from last night that hadn't been removed. The previously pure white cotton flannel was now caked in foundation, bronzer, eyeliner, mascara and glittery eye shadow. I was about to throw it into the almost full washing basket but then hesitated, throwing it into the bin instead, realising that since my mum did the washing, she'd probably come across it and give me a lecture about how much makeup I should wear. Whenever she did this I always thought about what a hypocrite she was – I'd seen all the photos of her at my age; she herself had looked like a bit of a show girl. I then jumped into the shower and turned on the built-in shower radio and started to sing along to one of the songs. It was only after I'd washed my hair, had a relaxing shower and stepped out that I finally pieced together what actually happened last night.

_How_ could I have let this happen? It was all going so well. I'd successfully passed the mourning period of mine and Dean's break up, so naturally I went to a party to celebrate – so far so good. But instead of celebrating me moving on and starting a new chapter of my life, I ended up getting drunk, embarrassing myself in front of everyone and to top it all off, I made out with my husband's best friend who _apparently_ really cares about me! _Do I have no spine?_ I really did want to kiss David that night, I knew that for sure, but how was I to know what my _reasons_ were? Was it because I was drunk? Was it because I felt alone and he was there? Was it because I wanted to annoy Dean? Or did I really like David in that way? I had absolutely no idea, which was why I backed out when I did. Of course I didn't want to, but I was glad I did. Although I hurt David by pulling away, it was nothing compared to the hurt I would have caused him later if I'd have carried on. And who _knows_ what would have happened if I hadn't left? I might have realised it was all a big mistake as soon as I got back to reality the next day, or _worse_, I could have slept with him and then realised it was all a big mistake.

What a mess. Why did I have to have those cocktails? They were a beautiful cerulean blue which made them all the more appealing. _That_ and the fact that they were intoxicatingly alcoholic. Picturing them now made me want to throw up. Ew. I never ever wanted to drink again. Ever. I started to comb through my wet hair and untangle all the knots I found lurking beneath the surface, the other hairs overlapping them all to hide the little horrors that they were covering . It was a good metaphor for my life right now. I quickly dried my hair with a towel and got dressed into some sweat pants and a grey baggy T-Shirt. I didn't feel like getting dressed up. I quickly smelt my breath and then tip-toed down the steps, wary that my parents could possibly still be in the house – I had no clue as to what time it was.

I got to the bottom of the stairs and as I did I heard folk music coming from the kitchen – it sounded like the radio. From there I could see my Mother in the kitchen with her back to me making toasted sandwiches. Luckily she was so into the song so she didn't turn around see me, but I knew that wouldn't last long. The song was about to end so I had two options: I could either hurry back upstairs and risk her hearing me – the stairs were very creaky – or hide in another room downstairs. There was no way I could let her see me but equally there was no way I could risk her hearing me going back upstairs so I quickly took this opportunity to swiftly walk into the separate dining room and stay there till she left. I realised that there was a likely possibility that my Mother could come in here as she didn't always eat at the breakfast bar but if I knew if I concealed myself well enough I may get away with it. I hid myself behind the wooden drawers and ducked my head. It was an extremely uncomfortable spot to pick but everywhere else was very open and exposed. I could hear my Mothers music from in here. This was not only because the walls paper thin but there was a little wooden window between the room that was slightly ajar. She was listening to yet another whiny nostalgic song that probably reminded her of her younger years. I was forever being told stories of her going to her uncle's ranch every summer and having wild adventures with his horse, Stanley.

I suddenly heard the music abruptly stop, being replaced by the rattling of keys, the clanking of her heavy bag charms and the door being shut. I waited thirty seconds for her to 'forget' something and rush back, not that she ever did, and I crept out of my less than cosy hidey-hole. I got to the kitchen and started to gorge myself on a pain au chocolat until I felt sick and quickly threw it away. That had been happening a lot lately – me really enjoying a food until half way through realising I am physically repulsed by it; _weird_.

I then made myself some water and started chugging it as if it were the last drink on earth. _What was up with me?_

I noticed my phone on the counter, a little more battered than I remembered. It started flashing and beeping as if it were trying to tell me something deadly important. I picked it up and examined it – it was telling me I'd got a new voicemail message. I swore I'd never seen it behave like that before. I pressed play to the message, finding it on loud speaker. I made a mental note to get it fixed. I suddenly realised that I must have been playing about with it while I was drunk, and since I had no idea how to fix it, I had to leave it be. I soon panicked, thinking it was probably my Mother having a go at me for staying out late last night. I winced as I prepared for her signature yelling voice.

But instead of hearing my Mother's voice, I heard another.

"Lindsay; it's David." A male voice mumbled. My heart stopped. I thought I'd be the last person he'd want to call.

"I don't really know why I'm calling to be honest. I woke up this morning and instead of making breakfast and going about my day as I normally do, I found myself dialling your number and hearing that annoying standard message telling me that you're not answering your phone. She didn't tell me why, though. I mean, you could have been sleeping, busy, or … or you could have just seen my number on your phone and chose to ignore me. But whatever option it is, I guess I just called to tell you I'm _sorry_ for what happened. I know it was you who ran away but I can't help feeling it was my fault; I forced you into this. And for that I think you deserve an explanation. I've had feelings for you ever since we _met_, Lindsay, but it was because of Dean that I stayed away. I never allowed myself to be alone with you because I was afraid that I'd do something stupid. But now, you're broken up, I hate Dean, and it all seemed so perfect. So I thought_, Right, now's my chance_, but it's not as simple as that, is it? You may be broken up, but you're still married. I never thought about that. I never thought that you would feel like you were cheating on him even though you weren't properly together. And I never thought that you might even get back together one day. And I never thought of the small possibility that you might not feel the same about me. I don't regret what happened, I'm going to be clear on that, but I am sorry." I realised that I'd been gripping tightly onto my phone as if it were him. Maybe I _did_ have feelings for him too. I knew that it was at this point in the movie that I'd drop the phone, get into a conveniently near taxi, rush over to David, wrap my arms around him and tell him that I've always loved him and I wished to spend the rest of my life with him. I dabbed at my watery eyes and sniffed, unattractively. I was glad I was alone for this.

But not for long. I heard the door open and my Mother emerge from the shadows. It was clear in her expression that she hadn't heard the message – despite it being on loud speaker – but I was certain that if anything else was said, she would most definitely witness it. David continued the message, an air of finality to his tone.

"I love you Lindsay, but I realise that's not enough for this to work. I have to go,"

NO! I saw her face turn in confusion, and then to anger, and finally to disappointment. She then looked up – I'm guessing to God – and shook her head in complete and utter disbelief, as if saying _How Could She Do This To Me?_

I scowled at her sarcastically whilst she was distracted, immersed in her own emotional pain. I dropped my head and sighed. _Just another fabulous day in the Lister household._


	28. Chapter 28

_Happy Reading! Please Review!_

Disclaimer: This story is based on the plot and characters created by the writers of Gilmore Girls.

Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 28

Oh Dear.

"What are you doing back?" I quickly asked, keen to keep her mind off David's message confessing his love for me.

"I just remembered I promised your dad I'd post some letters for him." She quickly answered.

"Who was that?" She enquired, nosily.

"Just now? Oh, that was Erica. She was just calling to cheer me up – she's on about this personal joke we've got going. Funny, huh?"

"That didn't sound like a female voice. Was that a guy? Who was it?"

"It was Erica. She does a good manly voice – it is _hilarious_!" I replied, unconvincingly.

"Lindsay, don't lie to me." She shot back, sternly.

"Ok. It was just _some guy_! I met him last week and he sort of got obsessed with me. I kept telling him I was married but he just kept _going_ at me." I found myself using lots of hand gestures whilst describing the story, one thing I'm known to do when I'm lying.

"Are you ok? Is he harassing you?" Mother asked, concerned.

"No, it's fine. Really." I gave a half-smile, as if I was putting on a brave face. Wasn't sure if she believed it.

"You know you should report it to the police. People like that should be locked up."

"Yeah." I mumbled.

"So now I know you're ok, where _were_ you last night? _A bar_?" She spat in utter disgust.

"I went out." I explained, vaguely. There was no way I was telling her I did actually go to a bar – and then got drunk. I think I would just have to dig myself a hole and live in it if I told her the truth.

"_Out_? You stay out _all night_, never told us where on earth you were going, and even now you won't even tell me the truth. We left you several messages and you only bothered to respond to one of them by texting, 'I'm fine. Chill.' What kind of a response is that? You scared us half to death! So where were you?" She demanded.

"I wasn't _out all night_! I came home when you were asleep, which isn't hard to manage when you go to bed at _eight_! And I just went to see Erica to blow off some steam. No big deal." I acted like it wasn't a big deal but the goody-goody Lindsay inside me was bursting to fall to her knees and start grovelling for forgiveness.

"No big deal? We called everyone; we called all your old friends, your new friends, your Home Economics teachers – who had never even _heard_ of you by the way –, Deans parents and finally Dean." My face dropped in horror. She knew. She knew everything.

"Actually, we called Dean first. I was just saving that till last. _He_ told us he couldn't keep up the pretence anymore and that we deserved to know the truth. He told me you're getting a divorce, and that you'd been _broken up for seven weeks _and that he didn't even _live_ here anymore! _You_ told us he was always working late and you were at community college; which as it happened you _weren't_. You made _fools_ out of your father and I! _What is going on_?" She cried.

"Yes. We broke up but I didn't want to tell you about it. Happy, now?"

"_What did you do?_ _What did you do to ruin it?_" She yelled, a murderous look in her eyes. I'd never seen her like this. She resembled some sort of dragon with flaming eyes and flaring nostrils; the kind you'd see in a video game.

"Why are you assuming it's _my_ fault?"

"You didn't answer the question."

"_Neither did you_!" I screamed, sick of hearing her criticisms.

"We broke up because we had a huge argument. I told him about college."

"Why would you do that?"

"I couldn't cope with the guilt!" I answered, truthfully.

"It's not _that_ hard, Lindsay. You think I don't carry guilt around with me too? We all have secrets, Lindsay, and it's best that we stay quiet to protect the ones we love. You ruined your own marriage!" Her little speech could be written into an episode of _Desperate Housewives_ it was that pathetic. I half expected the voice-over of Mary-Alice to suddenly boom from the living room speakers, 'We _all_ have secrets…" or something cliché like that.

"I went to see Dean last night to apologise but he made it quite clear he wanted nothing to do with me. _He_ told _me_ he wanted a divorce. So I went over to Erica's to make myself feel better about it." It was borderline truthful.

"You went to Erica's place? On campus?"

"Yeah." I responded, weakly. It was clear I was never going to be a good card player.

"_Stop lying to me!_ I called Erica myself and she told me you were at a _bar_! She sounded drunk herself. Why would you mix with people like that? You know you can't drink yourself – you're not 21 yet – so why put the temptation there?"

"I had a drink, so what?"

"Your under-age! Name the bar, I'll sue them for all their worth. I'll bet they don't even ask for ID!"

"I don't even know who you are anymore, Lindsay. You disgust me." She spat, viciously.

"I'm so sorry." I choked.

"I'll tell you what we're going to do about this. You are going to start behaving like a wife. You and Dean are not getting a divorce. You're going to move in with the Forrester's and you are going to work this thing out. Us parents are going to be carefully monitoring you both and until you are properly back together we're not going to stop." She explained, clearly.

"No. You can't do that." I replied simply. She didn't have that much power over me anymore. In my head I'd decided I was going to move out and figure out my feelings for David.

"Yes I can, and if you don't, I'll be forced to send you away to an intense disciplined boarding school in Mississippi, where your grandparents live."

"Why?" I asked, though the wrong question.

"Because you are not going to screw up a perfectly fixable marriage! This is exactly what my parents did to me – they threatened me to make my marriage work instead of walking away and I did. It's perfectly normal to want to give in at the first hurdle but this is real life. It's not all honeymoons and paint colours. And it would ruin our reputation, wouldn't it? You'd be our failure." She told me, selfishly. It was literally like being stabbed in the back by your own flesh and blood.

"You can't do this. _I_ can't do this." I whimpered, feebly.

"Yes you can. And you will. I'm taking the day off today to sort this out. Now you go clean yourself up, you look terrible." She started back outside, before re-opening the door again.

"And Lindsay? Tell your boyfriend you never want to see him again, or I will."

She didn't believe the stalker story; she'd never believed the stalker story. _Drat._

I held my head in my hands letting the tears flow everywhere and couldn't help but compare the situation to being locked in a white-wash room with no windows or entertainment. Just me and my chair. How was I going to do this?


	29. Chapter 29

Disclaimer: I own nothing (whimper)

_Hi readers! I'm back! And before you start barking at me in reviews because Lindsay's turned into this pathetic little girl - I assure you it's only for a few chapters! She's totally lost her confidence and is becoming her old self again. Calm down - not for long! Please enjoy and review! This involves that scene in GG that makes you want to go 'OMG why do you put up with this?'_

It had been five days since the 'make-up' my Mother had forced on Dean and I. It had been undeniably awkward for all parties however during this time, I'd decided to accept the preposterous plan she'd drawn up to save our marriage. Yes; there was a plan. I mean, what else was I to do? There was no way I could change my parents minds and there was no way I could leave my parents' house – leave Stars Hollow – due to the fact that I had no university place, no job and no money. There was nowhere else I could stay – I couldn't stay at Erica's, I wouldn't allow myself to impose myself like that - plus David was there and I didn't have the courage to face him. Not to mention the rule against outsiders staying with the students. So basically, complying with my Mothers rules was my only option. Plus, she had the threat of sending me away to Mississippi which trumped all of my proposed ideas anyway. I guess I could run away and avoid Mississippi but I just wasn't that kind of girl. I'd have no idea where to start. And anyway, I knew I still had some feelings for Dean otherwise I wouldn't have sent that stupid drunk message – and walked out on David. Maybe it was for the best. Dean hadn't mentioned the message yet – I wasn't sure if he'd chosen to forgive me or just hadn't heard it yet. I wasn't sure which I'd prefer.

So anyway, I was now living at the Forrester's and it was all very strange. For one thing I was on Clara's turf, which was something I feared greatly. I wondered whether Dean had told Clara what I'd said about her. I hoped he hadn't. But I'd managed to avoid Clara by carefully monitoring her daily activities and doing my best to only be in the house when I knew she'd be out. This time she was sleeping over at her friend's house, as I'd found out from Mrs Forrester so I felt safe to sit at the kitchen table with the plate of brownies my Mother had forced me to make for Dean today. She was hell-bent on making this arrangement work and although I'd tried to fight it, I was growing tired and I found myself re-opening that Pandora's Box of feelings for Dean I'd stored inside my heart – just to make things easier. I did still love Dean and the signs were there; it was only last week that I went to the Dragonfly hoping he'd forgive me for everything I'd put him through. Dean seemed to be complying with his parents wishes as well, despite him wanting 'nothing to do with me' anymore. I didn't know what game he was playing here, but again I foolishly told myself he didn't mean the things he said and he wanted this marriage to work. I looked up at the clock: it was 11 o'clock. I'd been sitting here for over an hour; Dean's phone had rang ten minutes ago and after several annoying rings I picked it up only to be greeted by a muffled sob. I presumed it was a wrong number. Tonight was the Dragonfly's Test-Run evening and I was glad to be away from it all – I hadn't seen Rory since she embarrassed me at Doose's.

I heard the door swing open and a tired-looking Dean appear before my eyes, loudly dropping his keys in the bowl by the door. He didn't make eye contact.

"Hey," I smiled, nervously. My hand quivered on the table.

"Hey," He grunted, distractedly.

"My Mother and I made brownies today." I tried to make some conversation to break the silence.

He grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen behind me.

"You worked late again." I tried, hoping this would spark some sort of response.

Nothing.

"Do you have to work tomorrow?" I enquired, with a faux-genuine interest.

"I work at Doose's tomorrow." He replied, monotonously.

"Well will you be home for dinner? I was thinking of cooking or something." _Say something!_ I was silently screaming.

"I guess. I'll try. I don't know." He mumbled, obviously not wanting to commit to anything.

"Want a brownie?" I offered, gesturing to the full plate of them. They were pretty delicious.

"No."

Dean picked up his phone from the kitchen counter and studied it.

"Oh yeah. I found it in the couch cushions."

"Thanks." He mumbled.

"It rang earlier – about 20 minutes ago. I answered it but they hung up." I shrugged.

"You answered my phone?" He asked, crossly.

"It kind of disturbed me. Plus, I thought it might have been important."

"Why are you answering people's phones?"

"Dean!" I scolded. This was no way to talk to your wife! And why was he so mad at me? I could see his eyes bulging. He scared me.

"I mean, you know it's my phone Lindsay, this isn't your phone! I mean, who was it?"

"I don't know – they hung up." I replied, meekly.

"So you didn't take a message?"

"I told you – they hung up!"

"So great, you're just answering my phone and not taking messages?"

"Dean!" I cried, not wanting a fight. I suddenly suspected he was just picking a fight with me to get rid of the pent-up aggression he'd saved all these months.

"Taylor calls on this phone and Tom! I mean, this phone is for business, that's why I got it!" He shouted, patronisingly.

"Fine!" I sighed, not able to fight my corner.

"What if Tom called and he had an extra shift for me tomorrow, huh? I mean he calls to tell me, and you answer and he thinks he's got the wrong number and so he hangs up and I lose out, which means _we_ lose out."

I let out a small whimper in response.

"_God_ Lindsay, you don't get it, do you? You have absolutely no respect for me at all, that's just obvious." I couldn't believe he was treating me this way.

"I don't want to fight. We always fight. I'm sorry, I won't answer your phone anymore. I'm sorry, ok?" I replied, feeling as small as the button on my camisole. Why did he have to do this?

"Ok." He nodded, calmly.

"You coming to bed?" I asked, wanting to put the conversation to bed.

"In a minute."

I left the table and started off upstairs, before turning back around to stare at the husband that despised me. It was definitely a work in progress, our relationship, but in time he'd see that we're worth fighting for.


	30. Chapter 30

Discalimer: I own nothing. Not one little bit.

_It's a birthday edition of Lindsay's Dean! As you'll have picked out, Dean cheated on Lindsay in the last scene, and heres the scene a day later after he finds himself 'lured' to Miss Patty's Dance Studio where a certain someone is waiting for him ... Lindsay just can't work out why Dean keeps snapping at her. But we know why... Enjoy!_

Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 30

After last night's epic fight, I'd decided to make things right. When I woke up this morning Dean had already left for work, so I'd left Dean a note saying I'd meet him at Weston's at 12 o'clock to talk – he'd see it when he came home on his lunch break. I could only hope that he intended to show up and put me out of my misery. I was now sat by the window on a table for two at Weston's, nervously sipping my coffee and drumming my fingernails – it was a habit I'd never managed to break. I felt like people were staring at me so I whipped out my phone and dialled Erica's number for advice. I was too scared to call Dean but at least I'd be talking to someone.

"Hey Erica," I greeted with a fake smile to go with my fake cheerfulness.

"Hi, Linds; How are you?" She asked, politely.

"I'm good, you?"

"Still hungover. That was some party, right?" She giggled, childishly.

"Right. Thanks again; really. You're such a great friend."

"I know! Hey, so do you fancy hanging out later?"

"Can't. Busy." I sighed.

"_You_ called _me_! What's up?" Erica laughed.

"Nothing, I'm just waiting for Dean to show up. He's late." I explained, crossly.

"Dean?" Erica questioned, seriously.

"Oh yeah, didn't tell you about that?" I cursed myself for bringing up the subject.

"Uh no! Why are you meeting that jerk? Is it to finalise the divorce?"

"No nothing like that. We're kind of back together." I mumbled, hoping she hadn't heard and would change the subject.

"What?" She exclaimed, clearly having heard what I'd said.

"Yeah. We've decided to work this thing out – to make sure we're not making a mistake in getting divorced." I told her, although this wasn't entirely true. I'd purposefully left out the 'my-mother-forced-me' part of the story.

"Lindsay, be serious! He's an arrogant jerk who not only does not deserve a second chance but shouldn't even be allowed in the same town as you – let alone the same room. Why are you doing this?" She rambled, passionately.

"I think I still love him; despite everything. I can't explain it." I told her, truthfully.

"Hmm. Anyway, Linds I gotta go, but call me later?" She quickly hung up.

"Sure. Bye Erica." I replied to the annoying beep.

I put my mobile down and peered around to see if anyone was staring. I resumed drumming my fingernails and staring at the door. Moments later, Dean came through it, looking shifty and distracted. He quickly spotted me and sat across from me. He never smiled.

"Hey, where were you?" I asked, lovingly, trying to put Erica's concerns to bed.

"Uh…. Miss Patty's Dance Studio?" He replied, nervously. He then pulled a face that told me he wished he hadn't said that.

"_Miss Patty's_?" I enquired, suspicious about what he was hiding from me.

"Yeah. I was … um…. asking about the next town meeting." He answered.

"Why?" I pressed.

"Tom wants me to do a presentation."

"What about?"

"Just back off Lindsay, it's none of your business!" He snapped.

"Ok, fine." I brushed off the topic, not wanting to fight like last night.

"So why are we here?" He asked, as if I was again being unreasonable.

"Do I need a reason? I just wanted to have lunch out with my husband. I ordered us some coffees and pastries – it's funny, it reminded me of Italy. Do you remember when we were sat on the beach with our espresso coffees and croissants and that stranger came up to us and asked –" I began, smiling as I reminisced about our romantic honeymoon.

"Sure. But that was a long time ago. How did you pay for these?" He asked, seriously.

"With money!" I laughed.

"_My_ money? You used my hard-earned money to pay for all this?" He scowled.

"Dean, it's _our_ money. And besides, it was my money I used to treat us. I sold some of my old handbags on the internet." I smiled, thinking he'd be proud of me selling some of my most prized possessions to help contribute to our food costs and car insurance. After I'd sold ten of them, I'd decided to treat us to lunch.

"On the internet? Don't you know what kind of weirdo's are on there? They could be wiping out my bank account as we speak!" He yelled. Why was he picking a fight like he had yesterday? I didn't know how much more of this I could take.

"Calm down!" I whispered.

"Don't tell me what to do!" He shot back.

I suddenly felt violently sick. I quickly got up, grabbed my bag and sped out of Weston's, stares hot on my back.

I started running through Stars Hollow until I got to the public toilets where I had to throw up. After that, I cleaned myself up, applied some fresh lipstick and went back to Weston's to see if Dean had waited for me but our table was empty. He hadn't even called to see if I was ok. I quickly made a snap decision to go to the butchers to see if I could get the ingredients for the pot roast Dean adores. I knew this would make things better.

As I tried to get the butcher to explain again how to make a good pot roast, I saw a figure in the corner of my eye. It looked like Rory.


	31. Chapter 31

_Here it is! I just couldn't wait for you to read it - I hope you like it. Please review!_

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Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. I developed what was already there.

Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 31

After last night's pot roast, things were beginning to get better. Dean had nervously apologised for snapping at me, and was quite happy tucking into the pot roast I'd spent hours preparing. Dean's parents had been out for the night and it was nice to have some time to ourselves. At the dinner table we didn't talk so much, but I could tell he was warming to the idea of us staying married. I knew inside he was sorry for behaving so harshly towards me in the past – so I'd decided to forgive him and look towards the future.

Today I was going to the market to get some fresh vegetables for Dean's family – I thought it was about time I helped out towards the cooking and the shopping. I knew it would help get my Mother off my back. She'd been calling every other day to make sure I hadn't done something stupid like fled the country. Honestly.

I was in my car driving, when half way to the vegetables market I had to stop. I quickly parked my car to the side of the road in search for some public toilets. After spotting some across the street, I had to throw up again. I cleaned myself up, as I had done yesterday and stood there, puzzled as to why this kept happening to me. I wondered if I'd got a stomach bug or a virus. I noticed a pharmacy store nearby and headed in, hoping they'd be able to help me.

"How can I help you?" The female shop assistant asked, after noticing I hadn't picked anything up yet.

"I've been feeling really weird these past few weeks – throwing up, mood swings, that sort of thing. I've been putting off getting it checked out as I thought it was down to stress. Now I'm not so sure. Oh yeah, sometimes I feel sick over foods I usually love. Bizarre, right?" I laughed.

"Your symptoms seem pretty clear. I think this is what you need." She replied, handing me a bright green pregnancy test kit. She looked behind me to the next person in line to get me moving. Fat chance!

"Oh, I'm not pregnant." I scoffed.

"Have you taken one recently?" She pressed, seeming pretty sure I'd got one in the oven.

"Well, no, but –" I stuttered, for once not having a good response to shoot back.

"Maybe take one just to be sure." She smiled as if to say, 'I'm a busy woman, so buy the damn kit and be gone.'

I couldn't argue with that so I took it and paid my money, disappointed that that was all she could give me. I wanted some super-strength healing vitamins that would cure me of my sickness, but a pregnancy test? That bitchy assistant clearly hadn't been trained properly. I had to stop myself from marching back in there and demanding a better service – and getting the manager to sack miss smarty pants.

I suddenly felt unusually thirsty – I'd drank half a carton of orange juice before leaving home - so I nipped in to the café next to the pharmacy and sat down on a table for one. Unfortunately, the assistant had given me a see-through plastic carrier bag revealing my shameful lime-green pregnancy test – what a cow. I quickly popped the test in my bag before anyone in the café saw it and sniggered at me.

I ordered a coffee from the cute waiter and sat there, pondering as to whether the assistant at the pharmacy might actually be onto something. Maybe she wasn't crazy. It had been nearly nine weeks since Dean and I …. Could I be pregnant? At the pharmacy it had seemed out of the question but thinking about it now, it would definitely explain a lot of things: my cravings, lethargy, mood swings, and sickness. I'd always wanted to start a family with Dean – my mother would have a fit (of joy) if she found out I was pregnant – but was now the right time? We'd been through so much and I didn't know if Dean would be able to handle it right now. But on the other hand, I knew Dean had always wanted a kid – it was something we'd discussed on our honeymoon – and wouldn't this surprise be just what our relationship needed? We'd be able to connect again over the hope of our child. We'd be able to overcome everything; just like that. I couldn't wait any longer so I quickly headed for the café bathroom and whipped out the test, not caring that most of the other people in the café were staring at me.

Once I'd done the test, I sat anxiously. Waiting I knew would be the longest part. This would change everything.

I mean, what if I was pregnant? I was only 20, I had the rest of my life to have children but then again why wait? Then again, raising a child would be hard work. I had absolutely no idea how to change a nappy! Then again, I had Dean and my mother and Dean's mother to help me out. Then again, it wasn't as if the pregnancy test was going to go, 'Ok then, I've listened to all of your points and decided that you should not be pregnant. You're clearly not ready to be a mother' – was it? If I was pregnant I had been for nine weeks, I just hadn't know it. If I wasn't pregnant the assistant was going to get a well-deserved punch in the face for making me so stressed out. But the bottom line was, I couldn't change anything now. What's done was done.

This was the definitely the longest three minutes I'd ever had to wait for anything. I wished I didn't have to do this. I wished Dean was here with me. I closed my eyes, nervously awaiting my fate – was I destined to enter motherhood? I opened my eyes again. Was it the red cross or the blue negative? Oh boy.

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_What do you think? Tell me your thoughts in your review - I'm really interested to hear your views!_


	32. Chapter 32

_Hi Readers! Thanks for all the reviews for the last chapter! Here's the next one! Enjoy ..._

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_Disclaimer: I own nothing!_

Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 32

I couldn't believe this was happening to me. Lindsay, the smart girl in high school who got married and got knocked up at twenty years old. That would be my story. It screams failure, right? Then again, my mother would definitely be thrilled at these turn of events. I could see my child's life panning out before my eyes: she'd start off by nursing me through my pregnancy – acting all pleased for me – and then once the baby had come, she'd convince me that I wasn't a good mother and that it would be best for the baby for it to be raised by a real mother, i.e. her. I saw it happen in Twilight. Not good. I assured myself I wouldn't let that happen.

Anyway, what would Dean think? Would he be thrilled too? Or would he think I planned this to make us closer? Either way, he'd be forced into fatherhood whether he liked it or not. I started thinking about our lives together (minus my mother, of course) : Dean and I would move into the town house we'd been saving for forever, and then our child would grow up in the house, us all united as a family. Naturally I'd stay home as the housewife, taking care of little George or Katherine. Years later Dean might get a job in the city and we'd move out there because it was his dream job and it was what he really wanted. When Dean became successful at his new job we might even think about having more children because we had so much more love to give and we'd always wanted a big family. The children would grow up together, and when they got older we'd have arguments over what time they'd be allowed to stay out till because it wasn't fair that the other was treated differently. We'd have our parenting problems but we'd get through it. When they became 18 they'd go to college and we'd miss them but we'd be able to get through it together. We might even get a cat.

I wanted all of that.

I got myself together and rushed out of the café, avoiding the cute waiter who was still making the coffee I'd ordered ten minutes ago. I ran back to the car, not managing to dodge the pharmacy assistant who was smoking a cigarette outside.

"You know yet?" She asked, cockily.

I sighed.

"Yes." I replied. She didn't have to ask her next question; the answer was clear on my face.

"Congratulations!" She yelled, as I scuttled to my car, which was very badly parked.

I sped back to Stars Hollow, hoping that Dean had come home for his lunch break. I turned the key to the Forrester's Household to meet Clara, sat on the breakfast bar innocently sipping a strawberry milkshake.

"Hey Sister-in-law! What's up?" She greeted, sarcastically.

"Have you seen your brother?" I asked, blankly.

"Yeah, he came in here about five minutes ago. You _just_ missed him!" She humorously explained.

"Why did I ask?" I muttered.

"Actually, he did say he'd left a note for you. In his coat pocket. He said he was too hot so he hung his coat up in his wardrobe and told me to tell you there was a note inside for you – I think it's important." Her facial expression told me that this wasn't entirely true.

"What's your game, Clara? What do you want?" I pressed, not wanting any more lies from her.

"Game? No game? Just being the messenger." She cackled, the wicked witch of the west that she was.

"You don't do messenger. So what's your plan, huh?" I continued, harshly. I'd never been so brutal with anybody else ever in my entire life. She brought out that side of me.

"No game. No plan. Just read the note. Is all." Clara explained, with fake honesty.

"Why would Dean leave me a note inside his coat pocket?"

"I don't know. Ask him." She shot back.

"Don't play dumb. I know this is some trick. I've known that side of you." I hissed.

"I'm just _Dean's innocent little sister_. What _do_ you mean?" She grinned, childishly.

"Just go to hell Clara. I know you want Dean and I to break up but I'm not going anywhere! Got it?" I barked.

Clara smiled smugly, nodded, and made her way into the living room, switching on an episode of CSI: Miami.

It was probably where she got all her evil ideas from, no doubt.

Curious as to whether Clara was lying, I quietly made my way upstairs and raided the wardrobe to find Dean's coat. I was 99% sure Clara was lying as per usual, but I had a sneaking suspicion that there was some element of truth to it. I found the coat and fumbled in the pockets for paper. I found none, until I checked the inside concealed pocket which revealed a piece of folded paper which had a strange texture to it. It definitely wasn't paper from Stars Hollow. I opened up the note to find a letter addressed to Dean.

I started reading, noting that this clearly was not Clara's handwriting.

_My Dean, _

_You know I'll always love you right? It sounds cliché I know, but it's true. I'll always care about you because you were my first real boyfriend and that means something to me …_


	33. Chapter 33

Disclaimer: Not mine.

_It's THE letter! Hope you like it! Please review!_

* * *

Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 33

_My Dean, _

_You know I'll always love you right? It sounds cliché I know, but it's true. I'll always care about you because you were my first boyfriend and that means something to me. _

_I couldn't have asked for a more caring, loving, loyal first boyfriend – I need you to know that. But that said, it's because I love you and care about you so much that I'm writing this letter, outlining everything I so badly need you to realise. Why am I writing a letter? Why not call you or email you or text you? Or better still, tell you face to face? _

_Well, if I told you by email, text or phone, it would seem impersonal, yet if I told you face to face I don't think the words would leave my mouth. Not to mention the fact that if I did build up the courage to tell you, I couldn't bear your reaction. Trust me, it's better this way. _

_I'm in Rome right now, by the way, on a trip around Europe with my grandmother. It's beautiful here. But as much as I love it here in Italy, the journey has given me a new perspective which has caused me to come to the conclusion that I have. _

_I love you Dean, I made a huge mistake choosing Jess over you and for that I'll never forgive myself, but we can't be together. Not like this. It's not right. What happened between us during the Dragonfly Test-run Evening - and the similar event that occurred the following day at Miss Patty's - was very special to me and I'm not sorry that it happened but the affair stops there. It was an affair, Dean. You cheated on your __wife__. The woman you vowed to stay faithful to. When my Mom described you as 'Lindsay's Dean', not 'Rory's Dean' as I thought of you then, I knew I'd done something unforgivably wrong. I can't justify the terrible thing we did to Lindsay but I need you to know it was done out of love. But it can't continue. It mustn't. _

_When you married Lindsay I was heartbroken and I do still love you but it's not fair on Lindsay. And I'm not going to let this tear your marriage apart so I'm making this easier for you by taking myself out of the mix. Lindsay never has to know. It would __destroy__ her. _

_If Lindsay was out of the picture, maybe things would be different, but we both know deep down that I'm making the right choice here. _

_I'm so sorry that I have to do this. Again. But in a few years' time when you've got hundreds of mini-Dean's and mini-Lindsay's running around Stars Hollow, you'll realise what you could have lost. _

_I love you. I always will. But this is the right thing to do._

_I wish things were different. _

_Rory Gilmore. _

I stood there, speechless. I thought back to when Dean was working at the inn and I was talking to Rory about the environment or something; she had a piece of paper sticking out of her bag which sported the exact same handwriting as this letter. I remembered this because I winced over her too-perfect calligraphy-style writing.

This removed any doubt I had about the possibility that Clara had asked somebody to write this letter.

That bitch. Here I was, coming to tell Dean I was pregnant and that he was going to become a father, and there she is, ruining our lives all over again, all the way from Europe.

I couldn't believe Dean had had an affair. He'd slept with that slut twice. While we were still married, and _together_! During the separation, I might be able to understand but so recently? All my hard efforts to make things work again between us had all been fruitless – He obviously didn't care about me at all. Maybe he never had.

Everything all made sense now: The sudden edginess after the dragonfly event – He'd cheated on me just before hadn't he? He'd slept with another woman then came home and gave me a hard time about his god-damn phone?

And then the next day, he came to Weston's all shifty and distracted, then he said he'd been to Miss Patty's – to cheat again! – and then since he couldn't think up a reasonable explanation for it he yelled at me again. And to think the guilt I'd felt over him. I suddenly felt faint. How could he do this to me? After everything we'd been through he'd just throw it all away – for Rory Gilmore! The cow that dumped him for Jess Mariano!

He'd clearly never gotten over her. I was just the rebound. That he married! And now I was pregnant! What was I supposed to do now? I could confront him now – but this could go two ways: he could be truly sorry and I might forgive him, or he'd tell me he was leaving me for Rory now that I knew the truth. I could also leave him, but that would mean raising a child as a single parent – would I be able to do that alone? Was I strong enough? I could also pretend I'd never seen it – but if I did that there was the risk of the affair repeating. And I'd never be able to look at him the same again.

Everything had fallen to pieces. My world had collapsed.

I heard the door open from downstairs and heavy feet tread the stairs. Dean opened the door to the bedroom and asked, "Have you seen my brown jacket?"

I pointed to the bed where it had been violently thrown. He saw my holding the letter.

"Oh my God." He said, his eyes bursting out of their sockets.

"Yeah, I come home to find Clara telling me you've left me a note in your jacket pocket. I didn't believe her at first but then I find _this_!"

"Lindsay, I .." He started.

"A love letter from Rory, telling me you had an affair – a few _days_ ago!"

I quoted parts of the letter in an over-exaggerated Rory voice "_Oh Dean, you know I'll always love you, right? I couldn't have asked for a more loving boyfriend. What happened at the Dragonfly Test-Run Evening and at Miss Patty's was very special to me. Lindsay never has to know! _What the hell?_"_

"Lindsay I'm so sorry. It was a mistake."

"We both know that's not true." I shot him a murderous look, opened the huge windows overlooking the Town Square and shot over to his chest of drawers where I took handfuls of clothes and scattered them across the street below.

"What are you doing?" He yelled, trying to grab things from my iron-like hands. He didn't have the strength or mentality to retrieve anything. I continued emptying the drawers then moved onto his wardrobe where I started on his beloved pair of jeans. Before I threw them out I got a pair of scissors and started cutting at them, furiously. I was careful not to make them looked fashionably distressed – I made sure they could never be used again. I then hauled the pieces out of the window, showing him how he'd cut up my heart into miniscule pieces and thrown them into the streets for everyone to see, just as I had with his belongings. I watched the denim fall to the streets and his horrified face when he realised the extent of what I had done.

"Can't we just talk about this?" He squealed, childishly.

"What's there to talk about? You wrecked everything. And now I'm destroying a laughably small piece of your life, as you have my _entire_ life. All talked out? _Fabulous_!" I joked, in an airy tone.

Next I hauled out the painting we'd bought in Venice – I hated it horribly but since Dean loved it I pretended I had and let him display it in our bedroom – it was probably worth a lot but I never hesitated to throw it out. It landed with a thud and the crowd that had gathered below started moving back in horror. I noticed Lorelai and Sookie in the crowd – Lorelai was probably cackling with glee at the show I was making of myself. She was probably going to warn Rory.

"We can make this work, Lindsay! Just put that down and come talk to me. I'll do couples therapy! Anything!" He exclaimed, clearly making things up as he went along. He looked like a hostage trying to bribe a murderer.

I put the stuff down, came closer to the horrified Dean and smiled. I whispered in his ear,

"Are you just telling me what I want to hear?"

He shook his head, nervously.

I bent up to his level, kissed him and then, just when he was mellowed, punched him right in the jaw. He fell onto the bed in agony. I hoped I'd broken it.

"You just can't stop lying can you? Rory's welcome to you."

I sauntered out of the room, picking up his wallet on the way and emptying the contents. I shoved the notes into my handbag.

"You don't mind if I take this do you? Thanks, honey. You're a doll." I added, playing wife.

I was glad I'd never told him about the pregnancy. No child of mine was ever going to see this jerk in their life. I wouldn't wish that on anyone. I headed out the door, avoiding Clara, and into the Town Square.

Rory was next.


	34. Chapter 34

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Happy Reading! Please Review!

* * *

Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 34

Rory was next. Even though she was supposedly touring Europe with her grandmother, there was no way I was going to let her off scot-free for the lives she'd ruined. I noticed Babette, Miss Patty and 'East-side Tilly' gossiping behind Doose's market so I crouched behind a bush to hear if there was anything juicy about Rory in the gossip-mill.

"Yeah, did you see the mess she made on Peach Street? By Jove! It's gonna' take an entire team to get rid of all that junk!" Chirped Babette, a woman with a husky voice so annoying it could send you into a trance. Babette had no trouble voicing her thoughts when it came to juicy town gossip so if you wanted dirt on anyone, she'd be the one to dig it up.

"I know. She just went crazy! I don't know for sure what the fight was about but I did catch the words 'destroy', 'wrecked everything' and 'couples therapy'. Poor kids. They got married too young." Replied Miss Patty, who clearly had no idea about the goings on in her dance studio after hours.

"I heard she had an affair with Jess Mariano – that punk who used to live here. Dean found out and she went crazy." East-side Tilly added, clearly wanting to make the story more interesting every time she told it.

"That's trash and you know it! Anyway, did you hear Rory's back from Europe?" Miss Patty asked, excitedly. They all worshiped that girl. I wondered what they'd think of her if they knew the truth.

"Oh yeah she got home just last night. Little Angel. Her and her grandmother were meant to go to Tuscany for a few days but they cut the trip short. Don't know why. I reckon she missed Stars Hollow too much." Babette laughed, obviously elated to have her home.

"She's such a sweetheart. I wish she was _my_ daughter – my girl's off with her boyfriend in Alaska. Never even sends a postcard." Tilly sighed.

"Is she at home? I wanted to come say hi." Miss Patty asked.

"She's probably at Luke's. Always is." Babette replied.

"Hey, girls, did I tell you I think some kids have been breaking into my studio? Yeah, the other day I found it in a right state! There were pillows everywhere, and –" Miss Patty began. I couldn't bear to listen to the rest of the story so I quickly fled before they saw me.

So she was at Luke's, huh? I started marching through the Town Square again, avoiding the stares of the Stars Hollow inhabitants, whilst staring at my feet. I heard my mobile go off. I reached into my pocket to check my messages, hoping it would be Erica, when I was caught tightly by the neck, resembling a dog owner holding a dog by its scruff when it proved disobedient. I turned around, ready to throttle whoever intended to mug me, when I realised it was my Mother. Figures.

"Dean told me everything. Are you alright?" She asked, concerned. I shrugged my shoulders, like a young child wanting to hide their pain.

"It's okay to be upset, you know. Nobody expects you to be okay with this right now."

"I guess you haven't seen the Forrester's house?"

"No. Dean rang me to explain everything. What about the Forrester's house?"

I started walking ahead to avoid her but then noticed two figures approaching. The Gilmore Girls.

Lorelai and Rory Gilmore. When they noticed us approaching, they tried to ignore us but I was having none of it. I saw Rory's innocent little face. I wanted to punch her just like I had Dean. I started thinking up opening lines but my Mother got in there first.

"You! You should be ashamed of yourself – what you did!" Mother yelled, not caring who heard her words.

"Wait!" Lorelai warned, trying to calm down my enraged mother.

"What did she ever do to you? How did she hurt you? Why are you doing this?" She pressed, staring into Rory's innocent little eyes.

"Teresa, please, calm down." Lorelai shot back, not as witty as usual. Rory remained silent.

"Calm down? My little girl has to come home to find your heinous letter in Dean's jacket!" She continued, aggressively.

"Look, we're in the street…" Lorelai ushered towards Weston's – for once it was empty.

"You little monster!" She yelled, pointing her finger at Rory. Rory hid behind her forceful Mother.

"Hey! Pull back, lady!" Lorelai retorted.

"There are hundreds of other boys in the world and you have to go after her husband?" I tried to stop my Mother by pulling her away from them, but my efforts were fruitless. I'd used all my energy in fighting with Dean.

"Ok, stop _attacking_ my daughter right now! You're upset, I get it, but you do _not_ do this!" Lorelai yelled back.

"She slept with my son-in-law! She broke up a marriage, are you proud?"

"She did not break up a marriage." Lorelai replied, passing it off as if Rory had done nothing wrong.

"What do you know of this?" Mother demanded, almost hoping that Lorelai was out of the loop.

"Enough. I know Rory."

"Well. All I know now is that my Lindsay is devastated, lives are destroyed, and you and your daughter can go to hell." She screeched, pulling me away from them as she stormed off. There were so many things I wanted to say to her, to them, but I had other things to deal with right now. She'd have to wait. Maybe that would be more satisfactory, knowing she was anxiously waiting for me to get my revenge. I gave Rory evils as we walked away.

Mother pulled me to the side of the street, by Andrew's book store, and looked me directly in the eyes.

"Are you okay?" She asked, firmly.

"No. Of course not. But I think I know what I need to do." I replied.

"Oh good, I'm glad we're on the same page. I mean, I know it's going to take some work, but if Dean's prepared to show how sorry he is, I think we'll be able to fix this…"

"What?" I gasped.

"It's not over Lindsay, he just made a mistake, we all do it."

"What about all those things you said back there? You said she broke up a marriage!" I repeated, shocked that my Mother had brushed off the valid points she had just made.

"You didn't believe all that, did you? I've been waiting years to have something on Lorelai Gilmore and now I do. She's the queen bee of Stars Hollow and that's the coveted position I've always wanted. So I made a big drama in the town square - her reputation's shot. There's no recovering from that! Soon enough, our family will be at the top of the socialite ladder – you just wait and see!"

"What about me? What about _us_?" I hoped she hadn't picked up on the 'us' as I was referring to me and the baby, who I had no intention of telling her about.

"We'll be fine!" She replied, thinking I cared that much about the family's gleaming reputation.

"I don't want Dean back! Never in a million years!"

"You say this now but you would regret it. That's why I'm here to tell you what to do. What would you do without me?"

"I'd be independent. And that's exactly what I need to be. I'm moving out of the Forresters." I told her, firmly.

"Fine. You can move back in with us. But remember, you'll still have to call round the Forresters every now and again; they loved you living with them, you know. Dean'll understand, I'm sure." Teresa started ranting in a Lorelai Gilmore fashion.

"I'm leaving Stars Hollow." I blurted out, not sure if I really meant it. Seconds later, I realised I did.

"But what about Dean? He can't quit his job for you!" She asked, delusional.

"I'm going alone. And I'm getting a divorce, I don't care what you think." I spat, furiously.

"I'll send you to Mississipi!" She threatened, aggressively.

"No you can't. I'm my own person and I'll do what I want." I shot back, maliciously, beginning to walk away.

"Lindsay, don't you dare walk away from me!" She yelled, making another scene. This one, however, was not planned and would not benefit our family's supposed great reputation.

"I'll call round to say goodbye before I leave." I told her, cruelly. It felt good.

I was so glad I hadn't told my mother about the pregnancy. No way was I going to let my kid see her either. The list was growing by the hour.


	35. Chapter 35

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Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 36

That felt good. Finally telling my Mother where to shove her 'advice' and demands of me. Who was she to tell me what to do? I was nearly 21 for God's sake! It was about time I started being my own person and making my own decisions. I didn't need a husband, either! What was I thinking getting married so young? To answer my own question, I replied, 'Because of Rory'. Dean and I started dating soon after the break-up – I was the rebound girl – and at first I could accept that but I grew jealous of their friendship. When Dean proposed to me in that crappy Italian restaurant I was thrilled; to me it meant that he really had chosen me. To Dean it probably meant showing Rory how 'happy' he was without her. Little did he know, marriage wasn't all what it was cracked up to be.

Back to making my own decisions, it was a hard job deciding exactly what to do next. Should I go pack my bags and leave home right now? Or try to calm down from all the drama I'd had to deal with today? Pregnancy, Betrayal and Deceit.

I made a snap decision to go see Erica. Thank God I kept my house and car keys on seperate chains - my house keys were still at the Forresters. I quickly ran to my car, unfortunately having to go through the Town Square in order to get there, and started driving to Erica's place. I knocked hard on the door, hoping she had a free period. Thinking again, with her hectic student schedule she probably didn't even have time to breathe, let alone be in the dorm room.

I turned around to leave, when the door swung open. It was David. I caught a glimpse of his face and turned back around, saying, "Tell Erica I called.", and swiftly walking out the building. I heard footsteps matching my pace and then hands on my shoulders. I was in no frame of mind to see anyone right now, let alone him.

"Hey, what's up?" He asked, in a soothing voice. He always did send my knees to jelly, even when he said something as normal as that.

"Nothing. I mean, I just came to see Erica. I forgot what a workaholic she is. Sorry." I mumbled, planning my next movements.

"Hold on a minute. You owe me an explanation." David demanded, sternly, get with the same knee-weakening voice.

"I do?" I asked, playing dumb.

"You never called me back. I spill my guts to you, something I've never done to anybody, and then you just ignore me? What's the excuse, huh? You forgot? You never got the message? You were busy?" He ranted, clearly rattled that I never rang him back.

"I was a coward, okay?" I admitted, avoiding eye contact.

"What?"

"My mother heard the message and told me to cut you out of my life. She told me I was to get back together with Dean and to make the marriage work." I explained, truthfully.

"She forced you, did she?" He shot back, hurt.

"You don't know what it's like to grow up in that house with those … people. There are expectations of me and one of them was to have a marriage. Not to get divorced. Not to give up, even if things clearly aren't working. She doesn't care. She threatened to send me to boarding school. I was terrified. Even today, when I found out Dean had been sleeping with some slut, she told me to brush it off and to take him back." I yelled.

"Did you?" He asked, with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. I whipped my eyes away again.

"Of course not. I never want to see that jerk again. I'm moving out of my parents' house, too – they're way too controlling. That's why I wanted to talk to Erica. I was hoping she'd be able to help me get back on my feet."

"Come on. Come inside." David replied, the soothing voice making a comeback.

"I should go. I'll come back later. I've hurt you enough – you should hate me."

"You know I don't hate you." He said, as if I'd just asked him what shoes were.

"But I hate myself. Especially after what I did to you."

"It's ok, I forgive you." He answered, honestly.

"Why?" I asked, daringly. I half expected him to reply,_ 'I don't know why. In fact, maybe I shouldn't forgive you. Leave now.'_

"My parents are controlling too. Obviously not to the extent of yours, but I know what it's like. They make you do crazy stuff you'd normally never do."

"Like get back with your pathological liar husband?" I laughed.

"Maybe not." He chuckled, breaking into a laugh with me. Nobody had made me laugh in a long time. I was surprised at how care-free I was with him. It was so easy to just talk with him.

"Trust me; you've got it easy." I shot back. David let me into the room and put my coat on hanger. I studied the room that was once mine; it hadn't changed at all. The furniture was all the same except the scruffy armchair Dean had brought with him to college, and the kitchen looked as spotless as ever. I missed it here. Maybe not the classes, but the people and the experiences. I'd never be able to get that back.

"You want a coffee?" David asked, politely. He was such a gentleman.

"You have to ask?" I laughed, carelessly.

"Point taken. Now, if you don't mind me asking, who was the slut he slept with? Or do you have no idea?" He enquired, wanting the full story. He may act like a gentleman but I could tell he was desperate for the full story.

"Oh I know. She wrote him a love letter about their time together, saying she wasn't sorry that it happened but she had to end it."

"How'd you find it?" He asked, intrigued at the scenario.

"His psycho little sister."

"O-kay."

"Dean had been after this girl for years. Pathetic, right?" I brushed off, feeling good to pity him.

"Oh, are you talking about, uh, Rory?"

"Yeah, Rory Gilmore. Dean mentioned her?" I gasped. I'd never expected that.

"Lindsay, we were best friends! Of course it came up! One night he got drunk and told the group he still fantasised about getting back with her." David explained, reminding himself of some of their times together.

"I can't actually believe I married that _loser_! I always hated Rory though, that was why I threw his stuff out the window!" I suddenly exploded with laughter. David soon followed. It was hard to imagine Dean running after his belongings but I'd witnessed that only today.

"Seriously?" He pressed, unsure if I'd made it up to embellish the story.

"Oh yeah, the whole street saw. I was like the loony on Peach Street."

"If Rory wrote a letter to Dean, why don't you write back? You've got to admit, that's good." He suggested, proud of the thought.

"Maybe you're right. I think I will."

"As much as I'd love to stay, Linds, I actually have a class right now. But you're more than welcome to crash here if you want. Erica will be thrilled!" We all knew what a neat-freak Erica was like. Having someone come to stay was like three Christmases at once. She'd be able to use the fancy spare sheets she kept for guests – she'd never dreamed there would actually be a time to use them.

"Are you sure?" I asked, cautiously.

"Yeah. Bring by your stuff about 7ish and we'll help you get through this. I promise."

"Thank you so much, David." I thanked him, deeply glad that he'd forgiven me. I knew not many would.

I rushed over and gave him a hug. I owed him more than I could possibly imagine.

"Hey, could I borrow this?" I gestured to a pad and pen. David nodded, knowing what I was going to do.

I walked out the room and into the student corridor, knowing I was going to produce some wicked prose today.


	36. Chapter 36

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_Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 36_

Rory wasn't the only one who could write. I sat in the car with my pen in hand.

_Rory,_

_I've never liked you. Never. On the first day of kindergarten I sussed you out: bossy, selfish, and irresponsible._

_I saw the way you ordered Lane around like she was a servant, how you hogged the best crayons at drawing time and the way you blamed Lane whenever somebody accused you of something – usually something you had actually done. Lane had let you do all those things not only because nobody else wanted to be her friend but also because she was so incredibly loyal. I thought I'd found that quality in Dean but I guess not. _

_Now I accept that Kindergarten was forever ago, but over the years you've never changed. You still boss Lane about like she means nothing to you – I witnessed that at Doose's – you still think you can take things that aren't yours – men that aren't yours – and you still act irresponsibly by thinking there are no consequences to your actions. You sleep with another woman's husband and you think feeling a little bit bad is enough? By writing some 'heartfelt' letter saying you feel so bad and that you're going to be the good person in this? Well, guess what? You've got another thing coming because you have torn me __apart__. You have destroyed everything I thought was real. My relationship with Dean, with my parents, with myself! What do I have left? I've lost everything._

_Deep down I know that Dean and I would have broken up eventually but if he had just left me first? Instead of doing this behind my back? That's what hurts, Rory. To know that someone I once would trust with my life has done this to me. You I can understand, you're a ruthless evil witch and I always knew you wanted Dean back again, but Dean? No. That I would never have guessed._

_That letter was patronising, Rory, as if I was a little child that needed to be protected. And what was the content about? You claimed you were ending the affair for me but I don't believe you. Not for a second. I reckon you were overcome with guilt that little miss perfect had done something bad and this was your way of making it right. You wanted to clear your conscience - without anyone finding out to save your reputation. I guess that backfired, didn't it?_

_You have no idea how much I want to drive back to Stars Hollow and punch you in the face like I did Dean. It would be so easy and so satisfying. I'd just have to wait till your Mother had gone to work and come in and punch you. You never lock the back door. But I'm bigger than you and I'm not going to succumb to my wants – to hell with the consequences – like you did. I'm going to do the right thing. Something you'd know nothing about._

_I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive either of you, you've hurt me that much, but I guess I can move on from it all. But that does not mean you can. I want you to suffer for what you've done and I hope this gets through to you. If not then you're an even more heartless witch than I thought you were - which is saying something.  
_

_I'm leaving Stars Hollow tonight and I'll probably never come back. I've wanted to leave for a long time but leaving you two is just a bonus. After Dean and I get divorced, you're both welcome to each other, but for now I want you to stay the hell away from both of our families. Me especially. If I do ever see you again, I'll be tempted to punch you; hard, too. Don't put yourself in that situation. I'm warning you, bitch._

_Lindsay Lister._

That felt like a huge weight off my mind. David was right; it would be the perfect punishment. Like I said before, punching her would feel good and it would physically hurt her, but Rory would take the pain and see that as her temporary punishment. It would last three seconds and then she'd feel she was able to move on. Attacking her in written form was like a taste of her own medicine. As a writer she knew how to make her audience empathise and sympathise and realise and effectively control their emotions which was exactly what I was doing here. I wanted her to suffer.

I folded the letter in half and dropped it into my bag. Looking outside, it was almost dark. I checked my watch – it was nearly 5 o'clock. I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast which was only a slice of toast, so my stomach was rumbling like there was a thunderstorm inside me. Feeling ravenously hungry I started driving and pulled up at a nearby diner. It wasn't much; a wooden bar and half a dozen tables covered in white sheets and some black white and red tiling leading to the kitchen. The people it contained looked friendly and wholesome, not at all like the stereotypes I was used to. Looks-wise it wasn't anything like Luke's, but it still had the same feel to it. I ordered a burger and a coke from the blonde female waitress and sat down at a table, waiting patiently.

Minutes later, it arrived and I quickly started feasting on the burger through pure hunger. I thought about where I was, what I was doing. As a kid, my mother would never have allowed me to go to a place like this or eat food like this. She called diners 'dirty grotty little places' and the food served 'prison food'. Of course I could never compare experiences as I'd never been to one – not even Luke's. It was a whole new world to me. Thinking back, my Mother had always made snide comments about Lorelai Gilmore raising her child in that diner. She thought that made our family better than theirs – I now realised how absurd her ideas are.

I finished the burger and then felt guilty; the baby shouldn't be eating burgers – it needed fruit and vegetables and energy. All the stress and anxiety I'd been feeling today wasn't good for the baby either. I'd almost forgotten about it, I was so hell-bent on taking revenge on Rory-frikin-Gilmore. What was I going to about the baby? I took a deep breath and fished some money out of my purse. I had enough for my meal but I didn't have much more. My car was running out of gas and I needed to make it back to Stars Hollow to get my stuff and get back to Erica's – Damn it!

The blonde waitress came over. "Hey, lovey, are you alright?" she asked, kindly. Her eyes were hazel brown and her glossy blonde hair was styled to frame her heart-shaped face. She seemed to be in her mid twenties. She looked like a geniunely nice person, and actually had the decency to come over and ask if I was okay, even though she didn't need to. I didn't come across too many nice people these says.

I burst into tears. "I'm so sorry. It's nothing, I'm fine." I whimpered, brushing away my tears.

"You don't look it." She pulled up a chair and sat down with me.

"Oh, you don't want to hear about my problems!" I laughed nervously and started fumbling in my bag for some tissues. It was filled with so much junk I couldn't find any.

"What happened?" She asked, genuinely concerned about me. This was more thought than my Mother had ever given me.

"This morning I found out I'm pregnant and then just as I was about to tell my husband, I found out he's been having an affair with his ex-girlfriend! And now I have to leave my town because my parents are threatening to send me away." I sobbed, not able to find a damn tissue to make myself look better.

"Aw, honey. That is one hell of a day! How old are you? You don't look old enough to be married?" She asked, confusedly.

"I'm twenty. My mother persuaded me to marry my boyfriend and then wouldn't let me divorce him when we started growing apart. So he cheated. But it still hurt." I explained, feeling so much better to let it all out. There was no way I could cry in front of Dean, my Mother or David but a stranger I'd probably never see again? That I could do.

"Have you got some place to go?"

"Yeah, I'm moving into my friend's dorm room. But I'm running out of gas and out of money, so I don't know if I'll be able to get there. I _so_ don't want to call my parents to come pick me up." I told her, honestly. The waitress thought to herself for a second, walked away and then came back with a shed of money. There must be about 100 dollars in there.

"I can't take this." I explained, simply.

"Yes you can. It's tip money so we won't miss it. I'm telling you babe – go home and take your stuff and get the hell out. Start a new life for yourself and be independent. I know you can do it. This money is just to get you started."

"Are you from heaven?" I joked, smiling for the first time all day.

"No. Beacon Falls. I know what you're going through. Ish. I mean I wasn't married or pregnant but my folks are mental. I left home when I was sixteen. So if ditsy Ivy can do it so can you! Look me up when your settled, okay? My name's Ivy Woods. What's your name?"

"I'm Lindsay. And I will. Thank you so much. You're too kind." I reluctantly took the money and slipped it into my bag, letting out another tear. I was unbelievably grateful to this woman, and vowed to pay her back when I could.

I took some of my own money and attempted to pay her for the burger.

"Oh no you don't! Mandy won't mind." I had no idea who Mandy was but I was thankful all the same.

I made my way out of the diner, thanking Ivy again before I left, and started driving again, quickly finding a nearby gas station to fill up my car. I began my journey back to Stars Hollow to face the wrath of the Listers'. I no longer counted myself as one of them. I was on my own now, although the hope of my unborn child was enough to give me the strength to fight for my independence. I needed to finally be free.


	37. Chapter 37

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Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 37

It was about 6 o'clock by the time I arrived back to Stars Hollow. First of all I had to face the Forresters. Not the worst location in Stars Hollow right now but still very bad – I'd trashed Dean's room and the street below this morning. Looking at Peach Street now, I noticed my mess had been cleared – it must have been quite a job.

I tentatively knocked on the door –I'd left my house keys there earlier and they were separate to my car keys– half-hoping they wouldn't hear me but Clara answered the door, a smug smile on her face as always.

"What do you want?" She asked, harshly.

"I technically still live here, remember? I've come to get my stuff if you must know."

"Really? Oh, it's such a shame you guys are breaking up like this. I might cry." She fake-cried.

"You know, you've actually done me a favour here. Thank you. But even though we're getting divorced, you'll always be my beautiful caring lovable sister-in-law, you know that?" I cooed, hoping she'd get embarrassed.

"Just get your crap and go, ok?" She snapped, pointing towards the staircase behind her.

"Clara!" Mrs Forrester gasped. I stifled a laugh, then pushed past them to get to the stairs. I'd let them hash it out without my input.

Once inside Dean's bedroom, I was somehow shocked to find Dean sat at the desk with his headphones on. He didn't notice me. From this angle I could see the bruise on the side of his face from my punch; I almost laughed.

Looking around at the room, there were still things everywhere as if I had never left, although there was a giant empty wall where the Venetian painting used to hang. I'd done him a favour getting rid of the hideous thing.

Dean had obviously anticipated my return as he'd left some empty cardboard boxes, scissors and sticky tape on the bed. I started gathering my clothes and shoes and electricals and toiletries together, hoping Dean wouldn't spot me doing it. Once done I started to quietly carry the boxes out of the room, although Dean spotted my silhouette and took off his headphones.

"You weren't going to say goodbye?" He asked, looking hurt.

"I didn't think you'd care." I replied, in an almost-whisper.

"I still care about you Lindsay." I could tell he meant that. Despite everything, too.

"Then why did you jump into bed with that bitch?" I asked, bluntly. I wasn't going to dance around the truth here! I hadn't forgotten what he'd done!

"I'm so sorry I did this to you. All of it." He apologized, sincerely, not actually answering my question. He started playing with his fingers nervously as he always did when he was anxious about something. Silly how you notice these things.

"I asked you _why_?" I pressed, needing to know this before I left town.

"It doesn't matter."

"Don't you think I deserve to know the truth?"

"Not if it's going to hurt you, _no_!"

"That's where we're different, Dean. You'd be happy living your life in the dark, in your happy little world where everything's perfect. I like to see what's really in front of me. So I want to know the truth! I want to know the whole truth about why you cheated on me! Right now!"

"I was sick of the mundanity of my life! I was sick of this house and my job and this stupid little town and …"

"…. me. I get the picture." I finished, wiping away a tear. He'd been miserable for a long time – anyone could see that – but I never knew it was this bad.

"And Rory was there, presenting herself in front of me and I felt .. different with her. It brought back all those feelings I had for her. And probably have always had. I think I still love her."

"You've been pining for her, haven't you?" I whispered, not really asking. He nodded in response.

"If you'd have just _waited_ till we'd separated. It would have happened eventually. Things clearly weren't working." I stressed. I wanted to remind him that what he did was wrong, even if he did love her.

"I didn't think that would ever happen. Your Mom's a psycho."

"Understatement of the century." I laughed, but with no happiness in the laugh. "You know she wanted me to take you back?" I asked, wondering if my Mother had mentioned it to Mrs Forrester.

"She came over here earlier, and told my mom what happened. She said you're thinking about leaving town?"

"Yeah, I'm leaving tonight."

"Your Mom just thinks you just want attention. She doesn't think you'll actually do it."

"And you?"

"I think you will. I think you _should_. Stars Hollow's like this little bubble, you know? Sometimes I don't think it's real life. Leaving would be a dream."

"So why haven't you?"

"I don't have the guts like you do."

"You're probably just saying this to get me out of the picture so you and Rory can be together guilt-free." I scoffed, not buying this crap.

"I promise you I'm not. And although that doesn't mean a lot to you, it's true. There's nothing keeping you in Stars Hollow anymore; there's too many people you hate here. You can have your own adventures out there in the real world." He smiled his crinkly eyed smile; the one that had hooked me into this whole mess. I remember like it was yesterday, the day our eyes met in chemistry class. I thought it was the fumes that were making me act so weirdly around him but no, it was that smile.

For that one second, I contemplated telling him about the baby, but I quickly snapped out of my funk and realised it would only complicate things further. I didn't need him in my life anymore and telling him that wouldn't help me in getting away from him.

I looked down at my feet, saying nothing in response.

"I did love you, Lindsay." He told me, taking my hands in his. I whipped them away so he wouldn't get the wrong idea. What was wrong with him?

"I think I loved you too much. I sacrificed so much to make it work and it made me a totally different person. I became my _Mother_!" I explained, not sad about the break-up anymore. It was what it was.

"Yeah. But we had some good times though, didn't we?" He smiled.

"If only we'd have moved to Venice." I joked.

"Yeah." We sighed in unison. It was the first pleasant moment we'd shared together in a long time.

"You know I'm not going to apologise for kicking off earlier, right? For wrecking your jeans?"

"I deserved it. And hey, at least you didn't start going at my sports card collection!" He laughed.

"Don't tempt me." I joked. He looked slightly uneasy at my response, as if he wasn't quite sure if I was joking.

"Hey, is your mom really mad at me for ruining your clothes and the street?" I worried.

"She's mad at me, not you! A little extra washing is nothing to her – she might even enjoy it!"

I smiled briefly and gestured towards the door. Before we left I remembered something I had to do.

I examined my hand as it was for a brief second and then began taking off my rings. I put them in his hand and told him that when we did get divorced, I wouldn't ask for much. Only what was rightfully mine. Hell, I was bringing up his child – there was no way I'd settle for nothing at all, was I? He nodded, humbly. I dreaded getting lawyers involved in the ending of the relationship but I knew it had to be done eventually.

Dean helped me downstairs with the boxes and I said my goodbyes to the Forresters, thanking them for everything they'd done for me and apologising for making a mess of the street. Mrs Forrester told me not to worry about it – I could see in her eyes that she was deeply ashamed of her son's infidelity. We always got on well me and Mrs Forrester – although her children I could not stand. I noticed Clara wasn't there – she'd probably been sent to her room. I asked if I could say goodbye to Clara and Mrs Forrester told me she was in her bedroom. I quickly nipped upstairs to see her. She was sat on her sofa bed and looked like she'd been crying. Surely she wasn't that hung up about being scolded by her mom?

"I thought you'd be jumping for joy that I'm leaving?" I scoffed, mocking her evilness.

"My boyfriend just broke up with me. _Over the phone_!" She cried. How could Clara have had a boyfriend already? She was thirteen!

"Why?" I asked, surprised at my interest in Clara's personal life.

"I guess he wasn't into the whole plotting-against-my-sister-in-law business. He thought it was stupid and he'd had enough." She sighed. I genuinely felt bad for her. How could I shout at her for being so cruel to me when she'd just been dumped?

"It _was_ stupid." I told her, in a gentle tone, making it clear I was able to forgive her if she was sorry.

"You're not good enough for Dean. I don't regret what I did." She shot back, coldly. And here I was, hoping she'd show some kind of remorse! Fat chance! Angrily, I picked up her personally signed Justin Bieber poster – from when she met him at a concert last year – and ripped it to shreds. I knew from Dean that this was the most precious thing she owned. She treasured this more than her own family.

"Oops." I laughed. I sauntered off, leaving Clara mourning the pieces in her arms. I could imagine her later desperately trying to piece them back together with sticky tape.

"Mom! Dad! That _bitch_ –" She roared as I made my way down the stairs.

"Clara go back to your room! I'll deal with you later!" Her Mother scolded, smiling at me warmly. I gave her a hug and told her I'd keep in touch. I loved her more than my own mother. Mind you, right now I loved the post man more than my own mother. She asked whether I was staying in Stars hollow and I explained that I was leaving town tonight. Her eyes said she didn't blame me. We got the boxes into my car and I started driving to the Gilmores. I just had to post that letter.


	38. Chapter 38

_Sorry Sorry Sorry... please don't be mad :( I haven't abandoned you I swear! Only one more chapter left after this one! Enjoy!_

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Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 38

(Christina Perri – Jar of Hearts)

_Who do you think you are?_

_Running round leaving scars,_

_Collecting your Jar of Hearts,_

_Tearing Love apart,_

_You're gonna catch a cold,_

_From the ice inside your soul,_

_So don't come back for me,_

_Who do you think you are?_

When I got to the Gilmores I noticed that the jeep was out. They weren't home. I hastily posted the letter, eager to miss seeing her patronising face, and started back to the car. Before I got there I heard a door opening and saw a shadow approaching me. They kept running faster and faster, breathing heavily, eager not to let me slip away. Why did I park so far away, damn it? I tried to block out the voice inside my head telling me to turn around hear her out. She didn't deserve my attention - who did she think she was?

"Lindsay I'm so sorry for what I did. I know –" Rory began, flustered and upset. She must have heard me post the letter! Before I could stop myself I turned around and punched her hard in the face just like I had to Dean. They'd have matching bruises. She fell to the grass and whimpered in pain, saying nothing more for once. She looked scared of me; I'd never seen Rory scared of anything; I enjoyed seeing Rory scared. I didn't want to have to do that but her pathetic-ness was more than I could handle. Did she really expect me to forgive her? Or even to listen to her?

"That was your own fault." I told her, feeling no guilt at all. I took in her bewildered face for a fraction of a second and got into my car and started driving again, trying to ignore her but failing. She managed to get back up, holding her injured face as if it weighed a tonne and crying like a child. She looked like she couldn't possibly understand why I'd done what I'd done. So much for an Ivy League student! She had a treat coming when she checked her mail, didn't she? What Dean ever saw in her was a complete mystery to me.

It was time to face my parents. I got to the house and found that the door was unlocked, which was unusual for this household. My childhood was filled with the terrifying stories of what happened when home owners were careless enough to leave the door unlocked. This was Stars Hollow!

"Mom? Dad?" I called. I looked around and then was shocked to see them sitting at the kitchen table, drumming their fingernails in worry. Mother's perfect French manicure was beginning to chip. They looked like they'd been sat there for hours.

"Do you have any idea what you've put us through? You yell at your mother, telling her you're moving out, and then flee town! We almost called the police!" My dad yelled, not bothering starting with a simple 'Hello'.

"I told Mom I'd call before I left!" I shot back, suddenly as angry at my Dad as I was with my Mother. I now knew were his loyalties were.

"Anyway. Now you're here we'd like to stop you from making a huge mistake." He replied, calmly. His change in tone was laughable. I mean, girls can go from normal to bitch in 0.5 seconds but I never expected men to be able to go from furious to calm in 0.3 seconds!

"Mistake? This is the best thing I've ever done!" I cried, borderline hysterical.  
"You may think that now, but .." He explained slowly, wary that if he was too fierce it might make me more eager to do it.

"I'm leaving town – can't you get that into your controlling little minds?" I stared evilly at them, as if they were another species.

"Don't say that to your mother!" He roared, lion-like. Oh wow! Calm to furious in 0.2 seconds!

"She knows what she is. She's been controlling me like a puppet for twenty years now and I'm sick of it!" I hissed.

"After all we've done for you.." He growled. He was clearly trying to play the guilt-card but I was having none of it.

"I've never had any choice in anything until now!"

"You know that's not true."

"What's up quippy? Why so silent?" I turned to my unusually silent Mother.

"I'm just furious with you that after everything you're turning your back on the life we've created for you here. _Ungrateful cow_!" she spat, out of character. Nobody would be able to recognise this creature as a traditional wife with her status as precious as her children – more so.

"If I am then I learned it from you." I spat back.

"Don't leave Stars Hollow, Lindsay. Don't make us send you to boarding school!" Dad pointed his finger at me, like he could do some serious damage with it.

"You can't send me anywhere. I'm leaving tonight. My car's ready to go."

"Where are you going?" She quivered, helplessly.

"As far away from you as possible!"

"What will you do for money?" Dad asked, worried that I would actually leave them and take up an embarrassing trade like a waitress. I must be such a humiliation to them.

"I'll get a job. I'll take a course. Whatever. I'll be fine."

"Don't do this." She cried, hysterically.

"You've made me do this, Mother. I'm sorry. Goodbye." I sobbed, although I knew it was something I had to do.

I walked out of the door and started walking to my car.

"Don't go! I'm sorry. I'll change. Don't leave me!" She cried helplessly.

"I'm sorry." A tear fell down my face.

"Lindsay, don't be rash." My dad called after me as I got into the car.

"Goodbye Dad. I'll call sometime, I promise." I sniffed. His eyes sank in disappointment. I then averted my eyes from my hysterical family and drove off, glad to be leaving Stars Hollow.

As I drove through town for the last time, I passed the buildings I'd practically lived in as a kid: Stars Hollow kindergarten, the middle school, the high school, the library, the book store, Doose's market, the Red White and Black movie theatre, the clothing stores, everything. I had emotional attachments to all of it, and in a sense this would always be my home but for now, my Stars Hollow live was on hiatus.

Maybe I'd be back one day? Who knew? But for now I had to leave to be my own person to live my own life and to raise my child like I wish I'd been raised and none of that could happen in Stars Hollow. I had to leave. As I left the town for the last time, passing the classic 'Welcome to Stars Hollow' sign on my way, I smiled. It was ironic, wasn't it? I'd never felt welcome here. There may even have been a sparkle in my eye. I couldn't wait to see David.


	39. Chapter 39

_The final chapter... Enjoy!_

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Lindsay's Dean - Chapter 39

_Why Can't I? - Liz Phair_

I drove up to the university car park and saw David, waiting by the entrance, looking as handsome as ever, holding an enormous bouquet of beautiful flowers.

I quickly parked up, not bothering with the boxes and started running toward him, the wind soft against my hair. I didn't care that my make-up had been done en-route so was probably sliding down my face, or that my hair hadn't seen been styled in months; all I cared about was him. I feared rejection; of course I did, but something inside was telling me to embrace this. I just hoped he felt the same.

"Hey," He greeted me, smiling brightly at me. He started laughing at my running and I started laughing too. We were like a couple of kids in a playground. Before he could say anything else I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him hard. He was clearly shocked by the gesture and pulled away, like I had before.

My face dropped, hurt that he didn't want this too. Maybe I shouldn't have gone into this so quickly. I cursed myself for being so naïve, and reluctantly looked up at him.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked, gently. "You just got out of a long-term relationship." It was obvious he was frightened of me bailing on him like last time. I think he was also scared of being the rebound guy. I knew I had just got out of a long term relationship, like he said, and technically I was still married but this is what I'd wanted all along. He was no rebound guy; he was the perfect guy. My mother just got in the way of us being together. And I'd be divorced soon, so it really was only a technicality, nothing more.

"I have never felt as alive with anybody else in my entire life." I told him, honestly. "I know this is right, David."

He paused for a second, thinking of what to do next. But he soon came to a decision. It turned out that my words seemed convincing enough for him, as he kissed me again, dropping the flowers and wrapping his arms around my waist. We just stood there, kissing passionately for about a minute without a care in the world and I could tell he really did love me. I didn't want to make comparisons but Dean had never kissed me like this. We then proceeded to walk hand in hand to the dorm room, never taking our eyes away from each other. I never wanted to let go of his hand, and it was clear neither did he. Before he let me in I smiled helplessly at him and kissed him again, holding his head in my hands. I couldn't believe my luck. He was everything I'd ever wanted. He smiled back. Before I could say any more gushy things, I took his hand and looked him right in the eyes. This was going to be hard.

"Before we go in, there is one tiny little thing I have to tell you." I began. Here we go ...

* * *

(Ending Credits...)

Erin McCarley - Love, Save the Empty.

_Little Girls don't know how to be sweet girls,_

_Mommy didn't teach me,_

_Little Boys don't know how to treat little girls,_

___Daddy didn't show me_ ...  


* * *

Can I just say thank you so much for the support I've had on this story! I know it's been a long story and I value your loyalty so much!

I also want to especially mention TL22, MiguelCC51, Summer2391 and ravenclaw smarties who have not only been loyal to this story but have also given me lots of great feedback! It's always appreciated.

Also, it turns out that TL22 has been working on a story called 'Family' which is about an older Lindsay who has a daughter called Elizabeth - Dean is the father. Lindsay never told Elizabeth about her biological father as Lindsay remarried and he was a father figure for Elizabeth. The story itself begins in Stars Hollow where Elizabeth is visiting to find out more about her mothers life there. She soon meets some very interesting characters. Rory, Dean, Luke and Lorelai also feature.

I myself may do a Lindsay's Dean sequel at some point, if people are enjoying the story, but I definitely recommend this story!

Thanks again!

xxxx


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